


Edge of the Night

by Nerd_of_Camelot



Series: The Night Chronicles [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Explicit Sexual Content, Gang Violence, Gangs, Multi, Not Beta Read, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 74,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9782402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_of_Camelot/pseuds/Nerd_of_Camelot
Summary: The Pharaoh, The Bandit King, and The Phantom King are best friends. The clincher? They each lead a different gang, and they spend their free time together plotting world domination over tea and coffee.





	1. Beginnings

“I’m sure you two know why you’re here.” The darker haired boy chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.

“Of course we do.” The palest one gave a wry smile.

The third, eyes ringed with kohl, cackled quietly. “This is gonna be good. What’s the plan?”

“It seems to me that the only way to get to the information we need is to take over.” The first said simply. “So we shall.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Pleasant as he was, the pale one took no nonsense.

“Perhaps we’ll start by conquering Domino. Slowly.” The first suggested.

“Maybe gangs?” The third offered before the second could question them.

There was a silence, during which the first and third nodded their agreement to each other, turning to watch for the second’s response. He stared back at them over his cup of tea, lips set into a neutral frown while he gaze turned thoughtful.

Minutes later, he burst into his pleasant smile again, setting down his teacup. “What a splendid idea. I fully endorse it.”

The other two smiled right back at him. “Let’s get started, shall we?” The third man clapped his hands together, “I’ve still got some measure of control over the Ghouls - we can start there.”

“ _ You _ can start there,” The second corrected. “It’d be best if we all formed separate gangs.”

“He’s right.” The first agreed reluctantly.

“No,  _ we _ can start there.” The third shook his head. “You think I’m going to trust the two of you to pick able-bodied men and women by yourselves? Before you have any experience?” He snorted. “You’ll both get a cut of my men, for now.”

The second mulled it over for a moment. “Very well. You  _ are _ the experienced one, after all. It’s probably for the best.”

“Then we’re agreed.” The third smiled again. “Now, as for territories…”

“The Ghouls already control the North side of the city.” The first mused, “Perhaps you should keep it that way?” At the third’s nod, he nodded as well. “I’ll take the East, then.”

They turned to the second man, but before they could question him, his pleasant smile turned somewhat dark and he said, “I’ll take the West.”

Had they been Catholics, he was sure the other two would have started saying Hail Marys right then and there. Regardless, they slowly nodded despite their horrified expressions. He could tell the third wanted to argue his claim, but they all knew that they’d need a gang-free territory for the time being and neither of them would set foot in the West. He was the only one with enough guts - or, rather, enough disregard for his own safety.

The West was the land of the dead, after all.


	2. We Three Kings

“And how are things in _your_ territory, Bandit King?” The Pharaoh chuckled, leaning back in the plush chair he’d been provided with so long ago.

The Bandit King took a moment to brush a crumb from his lap before replying, “All’s in order, actually.” He replied calmly, pleasantly. “We’ve expanded to the very edge of the Phantom King’s territory on one side.” He frowned. “Our progress in the other direction is disappointing, however.”

“And why is that, my friend?”

“It would seem a small time crime lord is interested in taking my territory from me and expanding it right into the south side.” He replied distastefully.

“A small time crime lord is halting your progress?” The Phantom King snorted. “How?”

“He is not halting our progress.” Said the Bandit King indignantly. “I am.” He brushed his white hair out of his face. “I’m letting him believe he’s taking  some of our land - that we’ve already taken ourselves all the way to the border of the South Side of town. Once he reaches the true edge of my territory, however, I’ll delight in laying him flat for all his men to see.” He smiled his usual pleasant smile, “And, of course, stealing all the territory he’s claimed for me.”

The Pharaoh and the Phantom King nodded their appreciation. “Planned like a true Bandit King, of course.”

“Of course.” He sipped his tea. “And how go your endeavors, dear Phantom King? Successful as always, I’d hope.”

“But of course.” He snickered. “Though I don’t have to do much to maintain my territory.” The other two laughed as well. “I had to weed out a traitor yesterday, however.” He gave a pointed look to the Bandit King. “Seems your ‘small time crime lord’ is attempting to get my territory as well.”

“A true entrepreneur of crime.” The Bandit King said admiringly. “Too bad he picked our city to start in.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“Too bad indeed.” The Pharaoh lifted his brows. “He was spying on me, as well.”

The three of them shared a laugh at that, relaxed in their varying seats. The Pharaoh’s was a plush, rather squishy throne lined in black velvet and stuffed with feathers. The Bandit King lounged languidly on a large crimson cushion that was surrounded on most sides by more cushions and pillows so that he could lay about however he wished, though he did have the option to sit in a throne very similar to the Pharaoh’s except in color. The Phantom King, too, had this option, and his throne, too, was different in color, but just as the Bandit King did, he chose not to use it at the moment. Instead, he laid draped across a purple velvet chaise.

Their seats were not the only differences, of course, as each of them dressed and looked quite dissimilar as well.

The Pharaoh was somewhat tan with spiked, two colored hair (black, lined with purple on the tips) and rather unruly blond bangs. His sharp eyes were a deep amethyst, though at one point in his life they had appeared much brighter. He dressed impeccably at all times in nice, tailored black suits that he only ever succeeded to look handsome in no matter how he looked otherwise. He’d been told that his unruly hair somehow just made him look more trustworthy when he was in such suits - he wasn’t sure why that was, but he would accept it regardless. Today’s suit was crisp and clean, the same color as all the others he owned. It held a red-violet silk handkerchief in the breast pocket, folded in exactly the way one would expect from a businessman like him. Beneath the suit jacket, which was currently open, there was a violet vest, crossed by the chain of a gold pocket watch, and a crimson tie tucked under it.

The Phantom King dressed in casual clothes and a large purple cloak, usually, relying on the latter item to obscure his identity from prying eyes. The hood on his cloak was down, today, largely because of his company. He trusted these two kings with his life, after all, and they already knew his identity prior to their plot. Under the cloak, he, too, was quite handsome, with darkly tanned skin, platinum blond hair, and lavender eyes perpetually ringed with kohl. He wore, most days, dark jeans and rarely wore a real shirt, instead choosing a zip-up lavender vest with a hood of its own - also down. Currently, the vest was unzipped, exposing his chest.

And the Bandit King was the most unusual, although arguably he might have been the best dressed in accordance with his title. His pale skin and white hair starkly contradicted the typically Ancient Egyptian theme of his outfits, but made him just as handsome as the other two regardless. Today he had chosen a simple, sleeveless white linen tunic, held at the waist by an extravagant looking lapis lazuli and gold belt. Falling carelessly from his shoulders was a large crimson cloak, designed to closely resemble that of the ancient Thief King Bakura, and around his neck was a silver chain choker encrusted with emeralds and amethysts with small gold plates strung in between the two sections of silver chain. Hanging down from it were more chains, one set gold, one set silver, encrusted with the same gems as the choker. Beneath the cloak he wore gold and silver bracelets on his wrists and biceps. Various kinds of earrings hung from various parts of his earlobes, and every single one of his fingers bore at least one ring. Some were plain gold, some silver, and others bore gems or were solid, rounded crystal bands.

“You know, Bandit,” The Phantom King examined his fingernails, chipping off a small fleck of the black polish he’d attempted to remove that morning. “I think you’re taking your title a little too seriously.”

The Bandit King rolled his eyes. “Oh, shove it.” Despite the phrase, he was still smiling somewhat. “You’re really no better, ‘your majesty’ - always disappearing from situations you don’t want to be in as if you really were a phantom.”

“If you’re going to dress like that, at least learn how to apply kohl.” The Phantom King rolled his eyes as well. “That’d add to it, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t kohl supposed to sacred or something?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Like you care? You set your base in the land of the dead, for Ra’s sake.” He said, exasperated.

“I thought _you_ might care, idiot.” He replied flippantly, “It’s quite clear that I don’t give a hoot about sacred traditions.” He sat down his teacup on the small, ornate table next to his cushion in favor of, again, brushing his hair out of his face. “And unless you feel like teaching me how to apply it, I’ll just go on not knowing, thank you very much.”

“I’d be perfectly willing to teach you.” He snorted. “If I thought you’d actually pay attention.”

“Are you implying I have a short attention span, my dear?”

“No, I’m implying that you tend to ignore it when people try to teach you anything.” The Phantom King smiled as sweetly as he could.

“I assure you, I only ignore _you_.”

Before the Phantom King could give another reply, the Pharaoh sighed. “My friends… Can this argument wait? This is a business meeting, after all.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Bandit King’s voice lilted sarcastically, “We can wait for the next five minutes until you grow tired of talking business and move back to sulking and silently begging for a cock to suck.”

He frowned at the pale man. “You know, it really seems that your balls are the only thing about you that are getting any bigger.”

The Bandit King nearly dropped his teacup, staring at him, slack jawed. “Now, you see here-!”

“Save it for five minutes,” The Pharaoh’s voice was sickeningly sweet, along with his smile. “Won’t you? And then you can ream me for my commentary and go back to arguing with the Phantom King to disguise how much you want him to fuck you.”

The Bandit King’s eyes narrowed for half a second, lip curling downward, before his usual smile returned to his face. “But of course, _Yugi_ , my _dear_ Pharaoh.”

The Pharaoh only nodded, knowing that the emphasis on both his name and the pet name meant he’d angered the thin man. Oh well. He would get over it, eventually, or he’d attack him. He wasn’t underhanded enough, of course, to pull his usual tricks with the Pharaoh, someone he trusted so much that he let his anger show in his presence. Someone who had taken his entire personality in stride and never once batted an eyelash. He’d start a fist-fight, and the Pharaoh would win if he fought fairly.

Both of them knew it was pointless, really.

The Bandit King would get over it.

“Back to business?” Phantom King prompted, lifting a brow as he shifted his legs. “Or should I just get my dick out and force one of you to suck it to occupy our time?”

“I’m sure that Bandit King wouldn’t mind the meeting taking that kind of turn.” Pharaoh said, ever the businessman, “And I’m sure I could gather useful information from it.” He winked.

The Bandit King’s face was suddenly only a shade or two away from matching his coat and cushion. He spluttered for a response for a long moment, eyes flickering between them. Eventually, he seemed to give up, and, frowning, picked up his teacup. He took a sip, color fading back out of his cheeks while he stared over the delicate cup at his comrades. Phantom King stared back, but the Pharaoh seemed far more interested in removing a piece of lint from the pocket of his suit coat.

When the Bandit King set his cup down, he’d completely reverted to his usual pleasant expression and pale face. “I do believe this meeting is over - don’t you, dear Pharaoh?”

“I suppose.” The Pharaoh shrugged. “Not as if it makes much difference to either of you.”

“How much progress should we aim to have made by the next meeting?” The Bandit King raised his brows.

“Personally,” The Phantom King cackled softly, “I expect you to have taken all of the West by the next time we meet.”

“As do I.” The Pharaoh agreed.

The Bandit King frowned somewhat, but nodded. “You have high expectations for me, my friends. And far more confidence in my abilities than I.”

He received two dubious shrugs in reply. “We know what you’re capable of.” Phantom King said.

“And based on that, we know how much to expect from you.” The Pharaoh added.

The Bandit King nodded again. “Very well.” He sighed. “Dismissed?”

“Dismissed.” The Pharaoh confirmed.

But none of them moved.

“What else have you been doing, Pharaoh?” Phantom King examined his fingernails again, chipping off a bit more of the polish. “Surely you’re not as invested in this gang activity as I am.”

The Pharaoh rolled his eyes. “I think you’d be surprised, really.” He said humorlessly. “Besides that, though, all I’ve really done is convinced Kaiba that it was in his best interests to - secretly, of course - abdicate the so-called ‘throne’ of Kaiba Corp to me.”

“You really have no life outside of our scheme, then?” Bandit King raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t act like you do, Bandit King.” Pharaoh chided. “You’ve done nothing unrelated to our scheme in months.”

“I have nothing better to do with my time.” He defended, “Nor did I have anything better to do before, whereas you actually had something else to live for.”

There was a heavy silence in the room. Usually they avoided the subject of what they’d all been doing before their scheme. It was, after all, a painful one. They couldn’t ignore the twinge of heartbreak every time they thought of it, even with all their experience doing so to the other emotions that cropped up when they thought of their pasts.

It took the Pharaoh a very long moment to gather the courage to murmur, “Well it’s fairly clear that I no longer have the only thing I lived for.”

The silence condensed. Bandit King felt the faintest hint of guilt… But it was not near enough to deter him. “Neither of you two have it anymore.” He gave them a sickly-sweet smile. “And I do believe you’re better off for that.”

They did not react as he’d hoped they would. They did not get angry. They did not get upset. They didn’t even look at him.

So it was to be the silent treatment, eh?

Very well. He could deal with silence. Silence was almost his entire life, after all.


	3. Enter, The Gangs and The Kingpins

Silence was everything to the Bandits.

Silence and shadows were their best friends - in more ways than just one. Within a month of joining the gang, they were taught how to manipulate the darkness to their advantage. How to draw the darkness to them and soften their steps, erase their breath, hide their very visage from prying eyes. They were taught to be _invisible_ to the naked eye.

And if they couldn’t grasp the idea, the Bandit King would simply declare they would not have field duty until they could. He was a gentle man, soft spoken and rather easy going. Generally very pleasant, as well… Though, for a reason as of yet unknown to anyone outside of it, the whole gang was terrified of him. Whatever secret that the Bandit King was hiding from everyone else, he hid it exceptionally well.

All of the Bandits refused to speak of why they were scared. New recruits often spent many a night wondering - only to suddenly stop one day with no explanation to their fellows.

Riches were of great importance, as well, but of course that is to be expected from Bandits.

But they were not obsessed with wealth for the sake of being wealthy and ‘better’ than others - they were obsessed with wealth for the sake of having wealth. They were much like dragons, keeping a hoard of all their stolen goods locked away safely in their homes. Some, like the Bandit King’s second-in-command for instance, had even taken the dragon-like approach of _sleeping_ on top of their riches.

The Bandit King found that particularly amusing.

As for their goals, only the Bandit King knew for sure what they were aiming to do in the long run. Yes, the short term goal was to seize control of the entire Western side of Domino, but no one knew what they planned to do once they had it. Would they continue their way South? North? To the East? Or would they simply revel in their territory for the rest of their days?

For the time being, they simply stood aside while some small time crime lord took over the remainder of the West side and continued to loot and pillage as they normally would. A jewelry store here, a bank there… No one could stop them. They were the most wealthy people in Domino.

 

To the Immortals, nothing was more important than remaining businesslike, yet intimidating, during all interactions. They made their progress the way old-school mobs did - through threats and business deals. They had their hands in everything from drug deals to honest businesses, like banks and grocery store chains. They were adept at talking their way into and out of any situation.

It was absolutely _essential_ that an Immortal have a silver tongue. If the Pharaoh, Yugi Muto, found you couldn’t sweet talk yourself into someone’s house, you got desk duty at one of his many, many companies until you learned how. And if you got caught doing something that could be considered illegal, he was not merciful. He would not cover you. Not unless he had a very good reason to keep you around.

If he didn’t, you were good as gone, because once someone turned you in and the cops got ahold of you… You were essentially disowned. The Immortals, much like the Bandits, valued secrecy and sneakiness. Getting caught denoted a severe lack of both skills.

The Immortals were even less informed as to what they were supposed to be doing past claiming the East. They didn’t know how or why they were taking everything on the East side of the city and making it their own. They didn’t even know if the East was their only goal… Or if claiming territory was the goal at all.

But still, with their hands in everything, it could be easily said that they were all very wealthy, well-dressed men and women. None were any worse off than their superiors - except, of course, in the case of the Pharaoh. But he was the morning and the evening star. The best of the best. The supreme leader. He deserved the best in life, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get it.

  


To the Ghouls, there wasn’t much that could be considered ‘important’. They were a ragtag band of incredibly skilled misfits, whose only common ground was a past in crime and a distaste for the law. Some were excellent at stealing things - everything from petty theft to grand larceny. Some were best at grand theft auto. Others found their talents were a little less… Mundane.

No training went into becoming a Ghoul. You merely had to prove yourself to the Phantom King and then you were in.

In all honesty, it had once been much more difficult to find your way into his good graces - into the Ghouls -, but after he’d established a close-knit group of elites he loosened up a bit. He removed the much tougher trials he’d once had in place. The tests of skill and mental strength.

And, despite no training being required, there _was_ an option of strengthening the less mundane powers you might have. As the Phantom King himself was quite adept at mind control, you could easily learn from him. His second-in-command was a powerful telekinetic, and the rest of the inner circle (affectionately referred by the other Ghouls to as “the Poltergeists”) each had their own unnatural ability that they were more than willing to teach to anyone who was willing to learn.

They may not have been the wealthiest gang, but they were certainly the most powerful… And the best informed as to their leader’s plans. They knew they were to be keeping control of the North side of the city at all costs, and that it was only the first step on their journey. Past the Northern city, they’d begin to claim the Northern countryside until every farm and vacation house was under their thumbs. They were already in the process of mapping out their territory - while also making note of where the other gangs would be expanding to one day.

Who knew when the others would begin their hostile takeover? Who knew if they even had any idea if it was coming? It was best to keep tabs on them, regardless. The Phantom King was paranoid. Scared of betrayal.

While the Pharaoh and the Immortals had their hands in everything, the Phantom King had his hands in their business… And the Bandits’.


	4. Not All Who Wander

To say that it was too late for the Pharaoh to still be sitting in his office would be a tad bit of an understatement. Typically, he was out of the large, well furnished room by nine pm, but it was nearing the dead center of the night now. The only thing keeping him there was the fact that he was waiting for his second-in-command to report in.

Just when he was getting ready to call the man to inquire as to his whereabouts, the door opened and his blonde right hand trudged in.

“Bruiser,” The Pharaoh said tiredly, “How are things going with the abdication of Kaiba Corp?”

“Eh?” Clearly, he’d been distracted. “They’s goin’ pretty well, boss.” The blonde rubbed at the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “But do I really gotta keep pretendin’ that I…?”

“Until Seto has completely given up the rights to the company, yes.”

Bruiser made a disgruntled noise, but didn’t argue. “S’that really all ya wanted, boss?”

“Yes. It’d be best if you returned to Seto, now.” He leaned back in his chair, pressing the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully. “I’m sure he’s wondering where you’ve gone off to.”

Bruiser’s face fell. “Aw, boss, he aint wonderin’ nothin’. It’s midnight - guy’s been out cold since ten!”

“How can you be sure he’s still asleep?” The Pharaoh raised a brow.

“Well, I, uh…” The blonde’s eyes darted around the room as if he was searching for an escape route. “I can’t. But moneybags usually sleeps all night, boss. Don’t even get up t’go piss.”

“That’s with you laying next to him, yes?”

“Well… Yeah.” He seemed to deflate. “Fine, whatever. I’ll go.” He turned, shoulders slumping. “See ya, bossman.”

Pharaoh flinched slightly. “Joey,” He flinched again at the slip-up while the blonde halted halfway through the double doors. “Does this ruse really bother you so much?”

“S’not that it bothers me, Yug’…” Joey sighed as he turned toward him, peeking up at him through his eyelashes. “S’that I think if I spend much more time wit’im… It won’t be a ruse no more.” Before the Pharaoh could question that, Joey threw his hands up, straightening his back. “Moneybags actually isn’t so bad once ya get to know him!” His arms dropped as suddenly as he’d raised them. “And… And that’s fuckin’ scary, okay? Cuz I think I’m already startin’ to… T’catch feelings for him. I don’t like it.” He paused to scratch the back of his neck. “If I knew for sure I could keep pretendin’ without fallin’ for that tightass, I wouldn’t be so… Uh. What’s the word I’m lookin’ for, Yug’?”

“Hesitant?” He suggested, “Reluctant?”

“Reluctant.” Joey nodded. “That’s it.”

Yugi sighed. “I’m sorry, Joey. I’d let you off the hook if I knew for sure we could still get control without you sweet talking him into it every step of the way.”

“I understand.” Joey waved his apology away like he was clearing smoke from the air. “It’s cool. He should be done soon, so I shouldn’t have to deal widit much longer.”

“For your sake, I hope that’s the truth.” Yugi sighed again.

Joey gave a weak shrug. “Eh, whatever. See ya ‘round, Yug’. Ima head back.”

“Alright. Try not to do anything I wouldn’t.”

That made Joey laugh. “Dude, I crossed that line the first time I put his dick in my mouth.”

Yugi blanched, staring in horror after the blonde while he cackled and sauntered out of the office.

After he managed to shake the mental image away, he stood and shrugged his suit coat back on. He couldn’t quite recall when or why he’d taken it off - he found he had that problem a lot lately. His memories tended to fade long before they were supposed to. It made it difficult for him to replace his old, painful memories with newer, better ones.

Maybe it was a subconscious reflex, telling him not to get over his past just yet. Not to let go.

He wished it would go away.

 

The trip back to Kaiba Mansion was pretty short.

Too short, if Joey was honest. He didn’t want to see “ol’ Moneybags” just yet - he wasn’t ready to go back to putting on his usual caring charade. It was tiring, really, pretending to care more than he did. Pretending that he was in love with Seto-freaking-Kaiba, which he _obviously_ wasn’t.

Seto Kaiba was a pompous, cold, stuck-up piece of horseshit, and Joey had been quite content with hating his guts up until about three months prior, when Pharaoh had suddenly decided that _he_ should be the one to seduce Kaiba and convince him that giving up his company to Yugi was a good idea. Oh, yes, he’d been hand-selected for the task. Hand-selected and forced into it because any question of his loyalty could be considered reason enough to be rid of him. The other Immortals wouldn’t be exactly charitable if they thought their boss’ right hand man  was skipping out on a mission.

Oh, he’d agreed to do it, though. He’d agreed to do it so that he could watch the look of heartbreak on Seto Kaiba’s usually emotionless face when he was done with him and revealed it was all an act. He’d agreed to do it so that he could get some petty vengeance for all the times Kaiba had humiliated him.

But now, three months after his initial agreement, he’d found that Seto Kaiba was actually a very gentle, loving man if given the chance to get to know you. He was generous, incredibly soft-spoken, and _such_ a gentleman. Joey would be damned if he admitted he had a spot for tsunderes, but Kaiba had proved to him that he really, _really_ did…

And Kaiba had certainly developed a soft spot for him.

 _God_ , it was driving him nuts. Kaiba _actually_ cared about him. Genuinely wanted to be with him. He had a sneaking suspicion that he might even want to _marry_ him and - and he just couldn’t do it, now.

He’d thought it’d be fun, making Kaiba fall in love with him and then crushing him - after all, Kaiba had crushed him so many times and he deserved to finally get paid back in full, but… He’d been imagining Kaiba remaining mostly his usual self during the relationship. Still cold and somewhat distant, still making fun of him. And for the first six weeks or so, that’s what he got out of the rich man - just his usual self with the faintest hints of affection here and there. He’d put up with it because it was his job and he didn’t _really_ like Kaiba as much as he was pretending to, but then, after Kaiba had finally stopped beating around the bush and asked him if he was just trying to have a “Sugar Daddy” and he was able to honestly say “No”, there’d been…

A sudden shift in Kaiba’s personality. He went from cold and vaguely affectionate to warm and incredibly loving in less than 24 hours. Joey almost got whiplash, he thought, from the change.

And before he could realize what was happening, before he figured out that his emotions were betraying him, it was already too late. It was three months into a relationship he’d never wanted to be in and he was falling in love. Slowly, yes, but surely. He had no doubt that another month would be too much for him. He’d fall and he’d never be able to forgive himself for being such an idiot.

Kaiba would grow bored with him, sooner or later, but he would remain in love. His heart was too stubborn to give up on someone he loved, even if they didn’t love him back. It’d take him _years_ to get over the heartbreak of Kaiba leaving him if he fell for him, and a few more after that to get over _Kaiba_.

He was so distracted by his thoughts that he didn’t notice the subject of them approaching him where he stood idled in the hallway.

“Joey!”

He flinched, looking up. “Yes?”

“Where were you?” Seto’s brows were knitted together.

Internally, Joey cursed. Externally, he shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk.” _Please buy it, please buy it, please buy it, please-_

“A walk?”

“Yeah.”

“To where?”

“Uh… Nowhere, really. I just took a walk around town.” He frowned. “Why are you so worked up about it? Or… Up, at all, actually?” Oh, there he went not using his accent. He had to do that to make Seto trust him. He hated it. He felt vulnerable without the thick Brooklyn drawl to cover his insecurities.

Seto only frowned right back at him, apparently choosing not to enlighten him. “Seems like you take a lot of walks.” He said after a moment. “In the middle of the night.”

Joey groaned. “Seto, baby, are we really going to fight about this?” It was getting so hard to call him ‘baby’, recently. But that was the pet name he’d chosen right off the bat and he couldn’t drop it now. “I’m a night person, you know that.”

“Yes, but you’re always gone in the middle of the night, after lying down with me. Do you really have that much trouble sleeping?”

“Yes, actually!” He couldn’t help an outburst. Of course he had trouble sleeping - he was scared. Scared that he’d somehow fuck his whole mission up in his sleep. It wasn’t unlikely that he would, either, and sleeping so close to Seto only made it all the more nerve wracking.

“Why?” The brunet demanded.

“Because I-” He cut himself off, forcing his voice down to an appropriate level. “Because I’m scared, ok?”

His eyebrows seemed to knit together further. “Scared of what, Puppy?” There was no anger there - only concern now.

Joey hated the way his heart skipped a beat. He also hated the way his mind had to race to think of an answer. _I’m scared you’re going to figure out that this is all a trick._ No. That’d get him kicked out immediately, and while that was a good thing for him, that was not a good thing for the Immortals and the Pharaoh would be pissed. He didn’t need that. _I’m scared I’m going to fall in love with you_. No - not that either. Anything but that. He wasn’t going to discuss his real feelings.

Eventually, eyes downcast, he murmured. “I’m scared you’re going to abandon me.” _Not entirely false. I’m scared you’ll abandon me because that would jeopardize the mission and I’d be screwed._

“Puppy…” Seto’s arms were around him in an instant, lips pressing a gentle kiss into his hair. “I would never.”

“You say that now,” He replied softly. It wasn’t hard to make his voice tremble - his heart was pounding wildly, because _oh God_ he was terrified. He couldn’t be found out now. He had to make this last as long as possible. He had to make sure he succeeded. “But what about six months from now?” Yes, good. Tears. He hadn’t realized he was this good at acting. “A year? You’ll get tired of me eventually, Seto…”

“Joey, baby,” He hooked a finger under his chin and lifted it. “ _never_.”

He kissed him, then, and Joey loathed knowing that he enjoyed it. That he liked it when Seto kissed him and gently scraped his teeth over his lip. But he did - he _loved_ it, actually, because even if he was pretending to love Seto he _wasn’t_ pretending to love sex with him. That was all real.

Seto was an extremely careful lover - he made sure that his partner enjoyed what he was doing. He wasn’t forceful, wasn’t cold or rude. He was attentive, calm, and loving.

His hands were soft, gently tugging Joey toward their room, pushing him down onto their bed, sliding up the inside of Joey’s thighs. But _oh_ he was a tease. He would turn Joey into a whimpering, writhing mess before he’d ever move past foreplay. He was good at it, too. He could get Joey to beg for him in under twenty minutes, and while that was humiliating Joey couldn’t help enjoying it.

Joey melted at the feeling of lips and teeth on his neck. Of hands running down his sides, nails scraping over the sensitive spots near the middle of his ribs. Seto knew that. So he did all of it - but he did it like the tease he was. He gave feather light kisses and soft little nips to his neck. Trailed his nails just _barely_ over the skin over those sensitive ribs. And then, out of nowhere, he’d bite down, graze his nails almost harshly down his sides, and-

“Please.” Joey whimpered. “Please, Seto…”

He didn’t have to specify what he was pleading for. Seto wouldn’t make him. Wouldn’t humiliate him like that.

“Alright, Puppy.”

The click of the bottle being opened, the squelch of the slick substance inside squirting out into Seto’s hand - it was almost _too_ familiar to Joey. He flinched slightly at the cold feeling of a slicked finger pressing against his puckered entrance, then relaxed, taking deep breaths. He could handle this. He could probably handle Seto without this, but he’d humor the man.

The sudden intrusion made him buck his hips slightly. Seto chuckled at that, slowly moving the digit in and out of him. He _knew_ Joey could take him - could probably be taken dry, if they were both honest -, but he loved to tease him. He twisted his finger slightly. Where…? Ah. There it was.

Joey gasped, bucking his hips again. “S-seto…”

Seto knew what he was asking for. He slid another finger in, doing his best to maintain that angle while he thrust both of them. It wasn’t exactly easy, he’d admit, but he could do it given the proper amount of concentration.

He didn’t remove the fingers, didn’t stop thrusting and scissoring them, until Joey was whimpering again.

He didn’t ask the question at the tip of his tongue. He knew the answer already. Click. Hesitation. This question was worth asking. “Joey, baby… Do you think I could take you dry this time?”

“Probably.” Joey breathed, staring up at him, pupils blown wide, hair sticking to his forehead already. “Why?”

There was a click as Seto closed the bottle, then a soft tapping noise as he set it down on the nightstand. “I wanna try.”

“Alright. Go ahead.” He opened his legs a little wider. “Really I… I insist.”

Seto snickered, but obliged as he pulled Joey closer to him, throwing his legs over his own and rubbing the engorged head of his cock against the extremely inviting opening before him. Joey gave a low keening noise in response, hips and thighs twitching a bit. He was clearly fighting against the urge to buck against him. To slam himself onto Seto’s cock.

“Don’t tease.” He murmured. “Please, Seto, please, I can’t take it tonight.”

“As you wish.”

He pressed into him, watching the blonde’s eyes slide closed. A quivering groan escaped him, but there was nothing to indicate that he was in pain. That was good. Seto hated watching Joey in pain.

“How do you want it, Puppy?” He whispered once he was nestled between Joey’s legs, skin against skin, buried to the hilt.

“I don’t care, baby - just fuck me. Please.” Joey groaned. “However you wanna do it.”

“You might regret that.” Seto warned him, but didn’t elaborate.

He just adjusted his position and started thrusting - hard. Fast. Right off the bat. And of course he’d calculated exactly where he needed to thrust. He hit Joey’s prostate on the first thrust and every one after that.

 _That_ was what made Joey love sex with Seto so much. It was always intense even if the other was moving slowly, because he _never_ missed.

This time was better, though. Seto wasn’t being gentle. He wasn’t holding back. He was just slamming into him over and over and Joey couldn’t help seeing stars and letting his head fall back against the mattress. He tried to twist his fingers into the sheets to steady himself, try to gain some level of control over his body, but as usual Seto’s fingers looped through his about halfway through and he leaned further over him. Leaned down where he could nibble on Joey’s collarbone and push deeper into him, and as much as Joey loved it when Seto was hitting his prostate head on, he found he actually liked it more when it was being grazed so roughly.

“Seto,” He gasped. “Baby - fuck, baby, I’m close…” He somehow managed to wrench his fingers from Seto’s grip to wrap them around his shoulders and dig his nails in. “Fuck,” He repeated.

“Me too.” Seto murmured into his ear. “Should I pull out?”

“W-we’re both clear, right?” Joey sought out the shell of Seto’s ear and nibbled on it for lack of anything better to do with himself.

“Yeah.” Seto shuddered and even at the pace he was managing to keep Joey felt his cock twitch.

“Then don’t p-pull out.” He felt so incredibly dirty saying it. “I…”

“You what, Puppy?”

He closed his eyes. “I want you to fill me up.”

Seto’s hand - which he hadn’t realized was on his hip -, squeezed. “Fuck. I’d be happy to.”

And, moments later, when Joey’s body spasmed and he came, Seto followed suit and fulfilled his promise.

After sex was about the only time that he could sleep comfortably next to Seto, with no fears that he’d reveal something he didn’t want to. If he was exhausted, he tended to shy away from his rampants sleeptalking - one of the reasons he took so many walks, really. He had to admit, regardless of it being an act, that it was nice, though, to fall asleep with someone holding you closely… Like they’re actually scared to lose you.

 

Ryou took a long drag off his cigarette, letting the smoke billow out of his mouth like a thick cloud of death mist. His dark eyes trailed slowly over the sheets that laid across his lower half, then to the tanned body next to him. Malik stared right back at him, wearing a tiredly accepting (yet somewhat irritated) expression.

“I forgot you smoked.” He noted after a long moment of silence.

Malik couldn’t stand silence.

“I usually don’t.” Ryou drawled with a sleepy smirk. “But I can’t help it after sex sometimes.”

“You never would have done it before.” Malik sat up. “You always insisted it was terrible for you.”

“It _is_ terrible for me.” Ryou snorted, flicking the cherry into a very conveniently placed ashtray. “The only difference is that I no longer care if I live or die.”

“But you know you don’t want to die.” The Egyptian said. “Not yet.”

“Not yet.” Ryou agreed easily. “Not until we find them. Not until I’ve given that bastard a piece of my mind.” He eyes narrowed, sleepy smirk morphing into a rather dangerous looking neutral expression.

Malik hated that expression. It never meant anything good. He _had_ to get that expression of Ryou’s face before… He shuddered at the very thought. “You really hate that he left, don’t you?”

“I can’t fucking stand it.” His expression changed again. His irises darkened, actually physically darkened, and he cast his eyes downward. “What the fuck did I do, Malik? How did I manage to drive him away?”

“I don’t know. You know I wonder the same thing about…”

Ryou nodded. “I… I’m gonna head home, alright?”

“Alright.”

“See you at the next meeting.”

“Mhm.”

He slid out of the bed, snuffed his cigarette out, and slipped back into the discarded clothing he’d left on the floor. He paused mid-way through putting on a thief’s coat that he’d so lovingly hand-stitched together. He opened his mouth, glancing over his shoulder, then let it click closed. He looked away, shrugged the coat the rest of the way on, and paced over to the bedroom door.

He paused again. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He advised, and then he was gone.

Malik sighed, having already laid down and turned over. Why were both of them so bad at being proper human beings?

Ryou had a very similar thought as he dropped out of one of the windows onto the street below, pulling the coat very close to him upon landing. It was a chilly night. He was a chilly person. And Malik… Malik didn’t deserve this treatment, but he couldn’t help being the way he was. He couldn’t help that his heart just wouldn’t let him treat the other the way he deserved. Wouldn’t let him love him, because, believe him, he’d fucking tried.

He’d tried to get over Bakura. Tried to fall in love with Malik because Malik was the closest thing to a best friend that he had and if anyone would love him and treat him right…

Malik didn’t deserve to be tied to him, though. He didn’t deserve to be stuck with a man whose emotions no longer functioned correctly. A _shell_ of a man. _God_ he felt worthless - only one thing to do about that.

The shadows on the sidewalk wrapped around him, obscured him from view, and when the glass of the jewelry shop front shattered, the shadows snuffed out the sound and silenced the alarm. And he emerged a few minutes later with a heavy coat and some brand new adornments in his ears and on his fingers and wrists.

Ah, yes. That felt _much_ better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is... Fairly well received so far.  
> Thanks for taking the time to read it, dears. It gives me inspiration.


	5. Recollections

_ “Bakura?” Ryou’s pleasant voice lilted from the other end of the couch. Bakura grunted in reply, and Ryou took that as his cue to continue. “Do you love me, ‘Kura?” _

_ “I adore you.” Bakura rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t still be here if I didn’t.” _

_ “I know.” He could see Ryou grinning. “But I like hearing you say it.” _

_ “I’ll keep that in mind.” Bakura gave another roll of his eyes. _

_ Ryou stifled a laugh. “One of these days, Kurikens, you’re gonna eyeroll yourself into another dimension.” _

_ “I certainly hope I do. Maybe I could drag you with me and then we could finally be alone.” He scooted a little closer, throwing an arm over Ryou’s shoulders. _

_ He pulled him flush against his side and Ryou couldn’t have been happier at that moment, because  _ dammit _ , Bakura was being affectionate. That was rare. It was rare and it was good and Ryou’s heart was absolutely  _ soaring _ because of it. _

_ “I adore you,” He’d said. _

_ Hm… Had he  _ **_really_ ** _ said that? Ryou hoped so. He really hoped he hadn’t imagined it - hadn’t put words in the other’s mouth that didn’t belong there. _

The Bandit King shook himself. What had brought that on? That sudden trip down memory lane was entirely uncalled for. Entirely unnecessary.

… And extremely annoying. He shook his head and looked around, again. His eyes scanned the floor below him, watching hundreds of his Bandits bustling around. Oh, there went Scales. Why was Gem following so closely behind him? They were nearly touching - oh. A brush of a hand.  _ Workplace debauchery. _ He decided with a wide smile.  _ Good. That means they get along _ . He simply could not have his Bandits disagreeing with each other - workplace debauchery was a good thing.

Ah, just the day before Scales and Gem had been at each other’s throats… Clearly they’d solved their conflict or found the source of it was sexual tension. Lovely.

“My Lord…”

He turned. “Ah, hello, Zen.” He smiled that pleasant smile he was quickly becoming famous for. “Rise and report.”

The other - his second-in-command - obeyed, getting to his feet and rising to his full height of 6’5’’. He often wondered how he managed to intimidate a man who was so much larger than himself, but he supposed it was just one of life’s many wonders… And perhaps a side-effect of his constant pleasantness. After all, anyone who was consistently as pleasant as he was was  _ clearly _ hiding something  _ much _ worse beneath it, and he most certainly was.

Ah, yes. That was how he intimidated the man. Zen had seen what he could do. Seen what he was hiding.

“My Lord, Angel, Camille, and Vanilla have not returned from their recon mission.” Zen spoke in his usual rumbling baritone, “Would you like for me to send someone after them?”

“At once.” The Bandit King nodded. “Send Fire and Gorbasch - they’re the best at tracking aside from the two of us.”

Zen cringed.  “Yes, my Lord… But I’d like to send Reaper with them, if you don’t mind. They can be… Quite destructive together, and Reaper balances them out.”

“Of course.” The white-haired one agreed. “I trust your judgement, Zen. Do what you think is best.”

“Yes, sir.” He bowed - polite and formal. A mad dash away from what Zen really was. “On another note, Candy and Dusty brought in a very large haul this morning and they claim they wish to share with everyone. Should I allow it?”

“Let them share their riches.” Bandit King snickered. “It’s truly un-bandit-like, but generosity is a good quality to have.”

“Of course, my Lord.” Zen nodded.

“Is there anything else, dear?” Bandit King raised a brow.

Zen shook his head. “Nothing professional, sir.”

“Then come here.” He turned away, leaning against the railing. He patted it, glancing at him. “Talk with me a while. I’m lonely.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” Zen smiled, approaching and leaning against the rails as well.

Bandit King sighed pleasantly. “Look at them all.” He said, returning to examining the people bustling around below them. “Such… Mindless drones.” He chuckled. “Rushing about like they have something important to be doing. Happily doing their duties…”

Zen’s smile morphed into a smirk. “Indeed, my Lord. They have no clue of their real significance.”

“None at all.” Another pleasant sigh. “Oh, but one day they’ll realize. One day they’ll find out that they’re my little disposable soldiers.” He cackled softly.

“Sir,” Zen seemed to grow concerned for a moment. “Am I the same?”

“Of course not, my dear.” He smiled at him. “You are irreplaceable. You are the only one who knows my plans, dear. The only one who remained loyal when they learned. I could not send  _ you _ to your doom as I’m sending  _ them _ .”

“Thank you, my Lord.” He relaxed. “You know that I would happily go to my grave for you, though, regardless.”

“Yes, I know. And that is why you are different. You know your fate and you happily accept it.” He directed his dark, lidded eyes at him. “And  _ that _ is why I have made you my right hand. Why I have changed your fate.” For half a second, his eyes flashed a brilliant green. “You don’t deserve to die like the wooly little lambs below us.”

He smirked again. “If they are lambs, then what are we?”

“We are the lions.”

Unbidden, another memory hit him.

_ “Ryou, darling… What are you doing, exactly?” _

_ “Singing.” Ryou paused with a frown. “And sewing.” _

_ “What are you sewing?” Bakura slid into the seat next to him. _

_ “I’m sealing my sleep sachet.” He returned to the task, restarting the song before Bakura could ask him any more questions. “ _ **_We dream like lions…_ ** _ ” _

_ Bakura watched him work, listening to the words that flowed out of his mouth. Ryou had a beautiful singing voice - Bakura had told him that thousands of times. Had told him that he could be a professional. But Ryou was entirely too modest for that and entirely too self-conscious. _

He forced himself out of the memory. He didn’t need that at the moment. He needed to focus.

Thankfully, his mental absence from the current time period had gone unnoticed by Zen…

Seemed his flashbacks were always ignored by those around him. He was thankful for that. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if someone asked him what was wrong. He’d snap. He’d lose control of all of his emotions and probably end up killing someone. And he’d probably get caught. He didn’t fucking need that.

“Zen, dear, you should probably go order that search party.” He said, instead of letting his irritation take over. “Thank you for taking the time to entertain me.”

“Of course, sir. It’s my pleasure to speak to you.” He bowed and then he was gone.

When he had disappeared and the bustling began to dwindle below him, the Bandit King sighed. The memory pricked at his mind again. Tugged at him. Pulled him back into the past, and all he could do was open his mouth and murmur that single line that was still ingrained in his memory to that day:

“ _ We dream like lions… _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I do realize that this story isn't getting a TON of attention, but it's definitely getting more than I was expecting, so thanks for that. It's always nice to know that people are reading and enjoying your work.


	6. Drinks

Malik was used to waking up alone.

He’d gotten used to it a long time ago, really. Long before Marik had disappeared. Long before this weird gang shit had started in Domino. How long ago had he stopped expecting to have someone there when he woke up? How old had he been?

17? 18? He couldn’t remember for sure. It was about 7 or 8 months into his and Marik’s relationship. He always woke up without him there and he finally figured out that he wasn’t going to spend the whole night no matter how close they got. If he did wake up with Marik in the bed, it was a pleasant surprise that he learned not to expect too much.

And now he woke up alone every day, no matter what. He could wish for the warmth of that rare occurrence as much as he wanted, but it would never happen again. He’d never see Marik again. Not unless he found him first. Not unless…

No. They’d succeed. There was no reason to doubt that they would. They couldn’t afford to fail and they _wouldn’t_ fail. They simply couldn’t and they’d make absolutely sure they didn’t. _No matter what_.

Or at least he would.

Shaking the thoughts away, he rolled out of bed and wandered over to his dresser. He scratched his chest. A yawn wrenched its way out of his mouth, forcing him to pause in his endeavor of searching the top drawer for a suitable replacement for his vest for the day. He really needed to have the thing washed after the previous day’s activities. Ryou always did manage to make him dirty all his favorite clothes.

Ryou was a like a high-class, incredibly decorated whore, really. Malik would call the pale man a slut, but he was far too classy until he got to the bedroom, and all too easily embarrassed if he wasn’t yet in the mood. Malik chuckled at the memories - he had plenty of a red-faced Bandit King sputtering at him over at table whenever he’d make a lewd suggestion, and it really seemed there was a distinct difference - a _real_ difference - between that beet red Bandit King with a disapproving frown and the stark-white Ryou with dark eyes and kiss-swollen lips that he was also quite familiar with.

Eventually he decided on an old black tank top that he’d owned for so long that he could no longer remember the origin of, and a pair of old gray sweatpants.

It wasn’t like he was planning on doing any business, anyway, and during the late morning hours no one was stupid enough to drop by unless it was a life or death situation… Or that was what it was going to become. Outrun the incredibly long-legged Malik Ishtar or be caught and die - sounded like something on a reality TV show, if he was honest. What would a TV show involving him even be called, anyway?

Probably just “Run or Die”.

He snorted at the thought, pulling his tank top over his head, finding with some satisfaction that it still fit quite snugly. Whose had it been before? He knew he’d taken it from _someone_. Someone he knew fairly well, too, if he was comfortable with rummaging through their laundry to take it.

Or someone he didn’t know at all, but he thought it was far more likely that he’d taken it from a loved one. Jewels were more his thing from strangers. Clothes were personal, in his opinion.

He scratched the back of his neck, trudged downstairs, and managed to have a large cup of coffee and some breakfast before his phone alerted him to a call. He groaned, of course, because he still wasn’t ready to start his day and he really couldn’t go anywhere important dressed like this, but he picked up anyway.

“Hello?”

“ _Malik, it’s me._ ”

It was a relief to hear Yugi’s voice instead of one of his workers or that loathsome Bandit King that had abandoned him for the thousandth time the previous night. “Hey, what’s up? You never call me.”

“ _I know, I know. I just thought that maybe you, me, and Ryou could meet up for drinks later? Just as friends._ ”

Malik considered it. Ryou and the Bandit King were still very different people, after all, even if there was no sure way to tell if they were separate identities or if they were one and the same… Perhaps Ryou would be in a more charitable, more friendly mood today.

Somehow, he doubted it. But his mouth formed the words. “Sure. Where at?”

Yugi seemed to hesitate. “ _Well, there’s this old coffee shop up in your territory that I used to visit with Yami all the time._ ” He said, “ _They’ve got an awesome selection._ ”

“Sounds good to me.” He shrugged despite knowing the motion would be lost on Yugi. “What time?”

“ _I dunno. I was thinking 3ish? That’s when Ryou usually gets done with all his shit._ ”

“Sure thing. Where’s it at?” After Yugi told him the name, he nodded - another movement completely lost on the one it replied to. “That all?”

“ _For now, yeah._ ” Yugi seemed vaguely uncomfortable. Before he hung up, Malik heard him murmur, “ _Why are personal phone calls so damn nerve wracking… I deal with drug lords all day for God’s sake._ ”

He couldn’t hold in the snort for any longer than it took for the line to go dead.

* * *

At three o’clock exactly, Malik turned up at the cafe still wearing his sweatpants and tank top - what reason did he have for changing his clothes and dressing up, anyway? Might as well be comfortable.

Looking around, he found Yugi seated at one of the outdoor tables, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the sky. He wore a black hoodie - one Malik remembered he owned a copy of as well, as did Ryou - that read “Anti-Social Social Club” over his heart and a pair of dark, stonewashed jeans. Upon noticing Malik, he grinned and waved him over.

Grinning back at him, Malik approached with the words, “If I’d have realized the Anti-Social Social Club was meeting today I’d have dug out my hoodie.”

Yugi snorted. “I wear this thing any time I’m not in a suit - but I guess the club _is_ meeting.” He winked. “Don’t worry, I won’t penalize you and Ryou for not wearing your uniforms… Cuz I’m sure he’s not going to think to put his on.”

Malik found himself chuckling as he sat down at an angle from Yugi, leaving the third chair on the other side of the table at the same angle from them - an equal partition of table space. Perfect for their disorganized minds to organize something.

It wasn’t until he’d gotten comfortable that he realized how long it’d been since he’d laughed at something that wasn’t cruel or lewd. That was… Well, honestly it was sad. He’d have to devote a little more time to personal meetings with Yugi. He could only hope, of course, that Ryou arriving would not throw off the peaceful mood that settled over them.

15 minutes later, Ryou’s voice piped up from behind them. “I didn’t realize this was a club meeting.”

His voice was light and airy, with a hint of amusement - nothing like his usual fake pleasantries. Nothing like the businesslike amusement he usually showed. It was nice. Turning brought both of them a surprise, however, when they realized that Ryou was not dressed like an Egyptian rogue for once.

He wore, instead of a tunic or a shenti, a baggy t-shirt and ripped jeans. He still wore the Thief’s coat, but it suddenly seemed much more casual when paired with his clothes - less regal. Less threatening and yet it lost none of the authoritativeness it seemed to carry with it. Malik watched the other people at the cafe give Ryou one look, and then immediately direct their eyes at the ground. Over and over, the same thing. The moment their eyes met him, they were diverted to another thing around them. Even a rather large, burly man sitting in the corner table averted his eyes when Ryou crossed the field of his stare.

Perhaps it was the coat, or perhaps they all just instinctively knew that Ryou, no matter how pale and skinny he was, was not a man to be trifled with. He never had been, to Malik’s knowledge, even before he’d become the Bandit King. He’d been a little more hesitant to follow through with his threats back then, yes, but he’d certainly done it once he’d been pushed enough.

Watching Ryou’s transformation from that nervous, hesitant teenager into what he was now had been… Well, it had been something beautifully tragic.

“Neither did I.” Yugi said, and it took Malik a moment to remember the context.

“Then obviously it isn’t a meeting.” He chuckled, mostly to insert himself back into the conversation. “Have a seat, Ry.”

Ryou obliged him, despite how demanding it had sounded. Typically Ryou had a mouthful for anyone who thought they could tell him what to do - perhaps he was just feeling charitable today. Charitable and calm.

 _Truly_ calm, judging by the way his lips were only curled up slightly at the edges. It was a soft, subtle expression, not purposeful like the turn of his lips when he was trying to appear pleasant… Not that it was easy to spot when his pleasantries were fake. It took a great deal of searching.

Ryou was a great actor.

“So, just drinks today?” Ryou inquired while he got situated in the chair.

Casually slumped against the back of the chair, legs extended, he looked more relaxed than Malik had _ever_ seen him. Perhaps he was trying to emulate Bakura’s much less professional authority, or maybe he was just giving being laid back a try for the first time in his life.

Yugi seemed almost impressed, but simply replied. “Yep. Drinks and some casual chatter, if you don’t mind, that is.”

Ryou barked a laugh at that. “Why would I mind doing something unrelated to my mission for the first time since we started?”

Malik almost argued with him before he remembered that they had agreed not to let Yugi know about their sexual encounters yet. But then, mouth already open, he had to say _something_ to avoid looking like an idiot. “I wouldn’t think you would.” He chuckled. “All work and no play makes the Bandit King lash out.”

Ryou winked at him.

“All work and no play makes the Pharaoh irritable and bitter.” Yugi noted dully. “So let’s try to keep work out of this, alright?”

“I have no problem finding something else to talk about, I assure you.” Ryou cackled. “But I _am_ curious - what does all work and no play do for the Phantom King?”

“It leaves him tired and unable to function like a proper human being.” Malik shrugged. “Really nothing new. I don’t know how to function like a proper human anyway.”

“I’ll teach you sometime.” Yugi offered with a wry smile. “I’m not very good at it either but I’m at least good at pretending I am.”

“You used to be very good at it.” Ryou noted, “But that was a long time ago.”

Yugi nodded. “Junior year.” He confirmed, then sighed. “God. _Ten_ _years_ , Ryou! We’ve known each other for _ten_ _years_.”

Ryou thought about it. “... So we have.” He eventually said, seeming quite impressed with that knowledge. “And friends for something like six?” Yugi nodded again and Ryou barked another laugh. “I do believe that’s the longest I’ve ever kept a friend. How did _we_ not end up dating at some point in high school?”

“That’s… A very good question.” Yugi said, scrunching his eyebrows and chewing on his bottom lip. “I mean, even if there was nothing in it, we could have dated at any point in time and… We didn’t.” Then he released his bottom lip from where it had returned to the place between his teeth and chuckled. “Yami would have been so jealous. Bakura, too.”

“Without a doubt.” Ryou chuckled. “But maybe they were why we didn’t date. We were scared they’d be angry.”

“Maybe.” Yugi agreed, then turned his attention to Malik. “And you. I’ve known you for about six years now, right?”

Malik gave a nod. “I think so. All I really remember is me and Marik trying to kill you and Yami.”

Ryou gave a snort, “Hey, don’t even get me started on trying to kill Yugi. ‘Kura and I were still trying when I became friends with him. Well...It was mostly ‘Kura, but still.”

“Yeah and our attempts were mostly Marik.” They both glanced at Yugi.

He merely shrugged. “I’m in no way surprised. ‘Tem wanted to murder you guys because he knew you had to be ‘up to no good’. Especially when Ryou started being friendly.” He paused to stifle a yawn. “He _insisted_ that Ryou was gonna make a sneak assassination attempt.” Then, a sheepish smile, “I _think_ I told him that if Ryou managed to kill Yami he deserved to die.”

Ryou snorted. “Back then? Definitely an accurate statement.”

Malik couldn’t help a smile. That seemed to fit with his vague memories of that time period. Ryou had been incredibly soft-spoken and sweet back when they’d first met. Such a contrast to Bakura, with whom Marik seemed to get along quite famously. But it brought up the question of why Ryou had actually tried to befriend Yugi if not for a sneak attack.

 _I should just ask_ , he admitted to himself. “So, if not to assassinate Yami, why _did_ you start being friendly?”

“Well, because I realized Bakura was a psycho, first of all.” Ryou seemed to be choosing his words carefully, “And… Secondly…” He searched for a moment. “Well, I was supposed to assassinate Yugi, actually. Get him to trust me and then kill him. First time I got the chance I lost my nerve and then I figured out I trusted him too and couldn’t do it.”

Yugi blanched. “That’s comforting.” He cleared his throat. “But why kill _me_?”

“To break Yami and Atem.” Ryou shrugged. “If you were out of the picture they’d either turn on each other or completely break, making them easier targets for Kurikens.”

“Divide and conquer.” Yugi nodded appreciatively. “Take away the one who holds them together and watch them destroy themselves, taking them out when they’re at the height of their rivalry.”

“That was the idea. We knew that Atem was strong minded - he’d just be angry Yami let you get hurt. Yami would break, but he’d respond to the anger with anger of his own and they’d slowly dismantle each other over the course of about a year before both of them finally began an outright confrontation about it. Then Kura and I would be able to strike at them.”

“But why Atem, too?” Yugi tilted his head. “I thought Bakura only hated Yami.”

“To keep him from getting revenge, really.”

“That… That makes sense.”

“You guys had a better plan than me and Marik. We just wanted them dead. Didn’t really think that far ahead.”

“Stab and run, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

Yugi rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Look at you two, bonding over trying to kill me and Yami.”

“It’s about the only thing we have to bond over, isn’t it?” Ryou raised an eyebrow. “We don’t have very much in common.”

“He’s right.” Malik lifted both of his brows.

“Well how would you actually know?” Yugi quirked one of his own eyebrows. “You don’t exactly talk outside of our meetings. Anti-social social club or otherwise.”

Malik thought about that, but Ryou only shrugged. “I don’t talk to you outside of them either, Yugi.”

“Maybe we should change that. Everything doesn’t _have_ to be business for us just because we’re Mob bosses.” He leaned back. “In fact, it should be much less business for us because of that. We have underlings to do our work for us, and while I don’t really trust Joey to take care of all of my internal affairs at the moment, he could probably do it.”

Ryou seemed to consider that. “Well, Zen could certainly take care of mine… And I could spend less time in the Thieves’ Den if I didn’t have to take care of it myself.”

“And if Spectre took over mine, I could actually leave the Tomb during the day...” Malik admitted, although with a hint of reluctance.

“We could use all that free time.” Yugi coaxed. “Even if all we did was hang out in Valhalla all the time, it’d be nice not to stress and stress and stress, wouldn’t it?”

Malik frowned. “Okay, hold on a second there, Loki.” He heard Ryou snort. “Are you trying to de-stress or are you trying to subtly end the operation?”

“De-stress.” Yugi said without hesitation. “I want them back as badly as you do, Malik. I wouldn’t end this operation if my grandfather’s life depended on it.”

The mention of old Suguroku Muto gave Malik all the reassurance he needed. If Yugi was bringing his grandfather into the issue, he was not to be questioned. Yugi loved his grandfather with all his heart and saying that even his grandfather wasn’t as important to him as this mission was really saying something. Maybe he didn’t mean it, but it was certainly convincing that he’d said it at all.

“I believe you.” Malik relented, putting his hands up in surrender. “So what do you suggest we do with all the free time we’d have?”

“Whatever we want?” He suggested dubiously.

“Good enough for me.”

Finally, a waiter approached them. “Mr. Muto!” He grinned. “It has been a long time. The usual?”

“Yes, please.” Yugi gave him a winning smile.

“And for you two?” The waiter turned to Ryou and Malik.

“Oh, just black coffee for me.” Ryou said with a - for once _truly_ \- pleasant smile. “One spoonful of sugar.”

The waiter nodded, jotting it down. His eyes roved to Malik.

“French vanilla latte.” He smiled.

With another grin, the waiter nodded a second time, wrote the order down, and bowed politely before heading back into the building.

By the time their drinks came out, the three of them had resumed their conversation, wandering into subjects they’d never really addressed together that ranged from important to the complete opposite.

By the time they were finished with those drinks… They were happy.


	7. To Have And To Hold

It wasn’t often that Seto took Joey out on dates. In fact, this was probably only the second time. The first had been the night they got together.

This was was, partially, because Joey had informed him that being showered in gifts and going to fancy restaurants made him somewhat uncomfortable and partially because Seto was still somewhat suspicious that Joey was using him for his money. The less he treated him to fancy things, the less chance there was of Joey staying just for the money. Sure, so far it seemed that Joey was content but maybe he was biding his time. Lying in wait for him to drop his guard so he could  _ strike _ .

It was unlikely, he knew. Joey was impatient and brash and he’d soon grow tired of pretending to be content if he really wasn’t. He’d drop whatever act he was putting up.

But after the way he’d acted the night before, Seto couldn’t bring himself to do much other than take him out to eat.

It was nothing too incredibly ritzy, just a nice restaurant on the edge of town that didn’t get a lot of business. They could get wine and some good food there, and that was all that really mattered aside from making sure Joey wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.

Besides, maybe if he slowly started introducing him to more high-class things they’d make him a little less jumpy.

“Where are we headed, baby?” Joey shifted next to him, looking out the limo window.

“Out.” Seto said simply, rubbing a circle into the tense back of Joey’s hand. “Relax, puppy.”

“You know I can’t relax not knowing where we’re going.” Joey muttered critically, but he squeezed Seto’s hand and leaned back a bit regardless. His eyes searched their surroundings through the tinted glass, lips pressed together. Soon, his eyebrows scrunched together. “Are we leaving the city?”

“Not quite.” The brunet pulled him close, gently turning his face with a finger. Once he managed to catch the other’s brown eyes, he gave the most reassuring smile he could. “ _ Relax _ ,” He insisted.

Joey slowly nodded. “Alright, alright.” He seemed to deflate, leaning against him and closing his eyes. Internally, he hated that Seto could calm him down so easily. Hated how nice it felt to be wrapped up in the other’s arms. But, oh, he loved it. It felt so,  _ so _ nice to be held.

It was only through thinking about that that he managed to obey the brunet and relax. He had to keep his mind on the arms around him, the warm feeling of breath rustling his hair and lips pressing gently into his forehead - that wasn’t hard. If he was honest, being in Seto’s arms was kind of an all-consuming feeling. He found it difficult to think of anything else, most of the time.

Was that love? He wasn’t sure.

Distracted as he quickly became, he still realized it when the limo came to a stop. He made to look out the window, but before he even opened his eyes, Seto put a hand over them.

“Keep your eyes closed, alright puppy?” He kissed his temple. “I’ll lead you.”

Joey hesitated. Did he trust Seto that much? Could he even pretend he did? He took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

The other removed his hand as the driver opened up the door. Joey slid out of the limo, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. The driver, no doubt knowing Seto’s plan, guided him onto the sidewalk and closed the door after Seto. For half of a terrifying second, Joey thought that maybe he was going to be abandoned on the side of his road like the dog Seto had always told him he was. But then an arm wrapped around him and gently guided him up the walk.

“This way, puppy.” Seto prompted.

He couldn’t help obeying.

_ I really am a dog, aren’t I? _ He sighed internally,  _ Following my master’s every whim… _ He didn’t get to ruminate on it for long, fortunately. Seto steered him around for a bit, then stopped him and he heard a chair being pulled out.  _ A restaurant? _ He wondered.  _ Is this a date? Why is it so quiet? _

“Sit down, puppy.” Seto nudged his shoulders.

Joey’s hand sought out the back of the chair and he maneuvered around it, sitting down nervously. He heard Seto chuckle softly, then another chair being pulled out.  _ Well, at least he’s sitting down too. _

“You can open your eyes now.” Seto chuckled again.

Joey did so, looking around immediately. The room they sat in was dimly lit by candles and a genuine-looking chandelier above him. It certainly  _ looked _ fancy, but the paint was peeling and there were some cracks in the walls. It was probably much more popular, once, but the popularity had clearly waned and the upkeep of the restaurant clearly wasn’t the most important thing to the owners. And it was kind of familiar, now that he thought of it…

A restaurant at the edge of town… He knew this place. It was the fanciest dive in all of Domino.  _ Well shit. _ He thought,  _ He took me to the ritziest dump he could to keep me comfortable. How considerate. _

Even with the sarcastic, sour note in his head, he couldn’t help the warm feeling in his chest. That really was sweet of him - he really had paid attention when Joey told him that fancy shit made him uncomfortable.

When his eyes finally trailed back to the millionaire, he had to clench his teeth to avoid smiling. Seto looked so concerned, so scared that Joey wouldn’t like his idea. “Do you like it?” He asked after a moment.

Joey nodded immediately. “Don’t look so worried.” He chided. “I’d stick it out even if I didn’t.”

“I know you would, but I want you to enjoy it when I take you out on a date.” Seto shifted.

Joey felt a lump in his throat. It  _ was _ a date. Seto really did care - that was painful. “That’s sweet, baby.” He managed not to sound choked. “That’s really sweet.”

He blinked back a sudden welling of tears. How could he keep up this stupid charade now? How could he keep lying? Seto really,  _ really _ cared and he was just  _ using _ him. God, he felt guilty. And sure, he  _ knew _ he wasn’t really in love with Seto yet, but perhaps now was the best time to get this out. Before it got more serious. Before his job was over and he had the chance to flee and never tell the older male.

“Is there something wrong, puppy?” Seto frowned slightly.

Joey shook his head, “No, no. I just… I need to tell you something. Promise you won’t get mad?”

Immediately, something about Seto went rigid. But he nodded. “I promise.”

“I…” Joey swallowed.  _ I’m stupid _ . “You already know I work for the Pharaoh, yeah?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well, I… Um…” He took a deep breath, swallowed again, “When this started… It was a job. A mission.”

Seto clenched his jaw. “Really, now?”

“Yeah.” Joey flinched. “To get you to sign over the company. A-and at first I only agreed ‘cuz I really wanted to mess with you. But I…” He trailed off, directing his eyes to the ground. Seto waited silently for him to work up the courage to say, “But I just can’t lie anymore. I can’t hurt you like that.”

“What do you mean by that, exactly?”

He flinched again. Seto’s voice was so  _ cold _ . He hadn’t heard that clipped tone in  _ weeks _ . “I can’t keep pretending that I got with you because I already loved you. It was a job. It was an assignment and I  _ hated _ it. I hated  _ you _ . But I… I don’t anymore. I really care and…” He choked.

“Puppy…” The coldness seemed to melt away. “Why did you even tell me about that? You could have gone on and I’d never have to know.”

“I know. But the guilt was killing me, baby.” Joey blinked back more tears, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “And I didn’t want to keep quiet because if I didn’t tell you I would have taken off the first chance I got to escape the guilt.”

Seto seemed to consider it. “Alright.”

He looked back up at him. “Please don’t break up with me.”

He received a frown. “Why shouldn’t I, knowing that?”

“Because I genuinely want to fucking be with you now. And I’d never be able to live with myself if I had to go back to being alone after… After you were so loving and sweet and…” He had to stop himself, “Look, baby, I know I’m a huge asshole but I want to have the chance to return the favor.”

The brunet considered it, blue eyes studying him for a long moment before he sighed, nodding. “Alright, puppy. I won’t break up with you. I’m not pleased, though.”

“I didn’t think you would be.” Joey scratched the back of his neck. “I was going to tell you when we got home so I could just leave and give you a chance to think about it, but you’re too damn sweet and I couldn’t take the guilt long enough for us to finish our date.”

He slowly nodded again. “I believe you about that. You wouldn’t have told me otherwise.”

Joey gave him a weak smile. Seto smiled back. When the waiter finally arrived at their table, the date went on as if their conversation hadn’t even happened. They talked about the progress of the change of management in Kaiba Corp, about the way that Seto would remain the figurehead for the company, taking orders from the Pharaoh, and how Joey would continue to be his messenger. Seto questioned him about his role in the Immortals and seemed quite surprised to learn that not only was he one of the higher ups, he was the Pharaoh’s right hand man.

“No wonder he put you on this job. He trusts you to get it done.”

Joey shrugged. “If you want something done right, do it yourself or send your closest lieutenant, I guess.”

Seto snickered at that. “What’s your code name, then? I’m sure you have one.”

“Bruiser.” Joey gave him a weak smile.

“Puppy, that sounds like a dog name.”

“It is.” Joey chuckled. “My sister used to have a Pit Bull named Bruiser. He was pretty sweet most of the time but he had his vicious moments.”

“I see why you chose it then, my sweet Puppy.” Seto grinned at him.

Joey blushed. “Oh, shut up.”

Seto continued to good-naturedly poke fun at him until they’d finished their food. Joey didn’t want to admit it, but he really didn’t mind the jokes. He actually liked it when Seto made fun of him like this. It was so gentle and such a careful way of going about it - always making sure he hadn’t actually offended Joey on accident.

Joey could almost hear “I Won’t Say I’m In Love” playing in the back of his head.

On their way out of the restaurant, Seto stopped him. “Puppy…” He pulled him close and kissed him. “Thank you for telling me the truth.” He murmured when he pulled back.

The blonde could feel his eyes welling up with tears again. He buried his face in Seto’s shoulder, murmuring innumerable apologies. The other didn’t have to ask what he was apologizing for. He already knew. He was apologizing for having lied for as long as he did, for having tricked him.

“It’s okay, puppy…” He whispered into his hair. “I forgive you.”

And then Joey began to sob.


	8. Searching

“You know what you’re looking for, correct?”

“Yes, yes, I know.” The dark haired man waved a hand. “Body of a young man, probably hooked up to a computer system. Got it.”

“Good.” His superior frowned down at him. “Do not fail me this time, Atem.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Douchebag.” Atem turned away, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as he began to trudge away. “I’ll find Kaiba Noa.”

“You’d better.”

He rolled his eyes as he lit his cigarette. A string of smoke was his only other reply.

* * *

He kicked a rock out of his way, pulling a cell phone from his pocket. He dialed a number that by now he knew by heart, holding the device up to his ear. A prayer passed through his lips in another language while he waited. _Pick up_ . He begged internally, _Pick. Up._

Relief washed through him when he heard a click on the other end of the line. _Please don’t have changed your number you little shit._

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Yugi. It’s me.”

He actually heard the other sit up straighter. “ _‘Tem? Why are you calling me?_ ” There was a note of suspicion in his voice. “ _I thought you said you never wanted to hear from me again_.”

“I lied.” Atem sighed. _I should have known he’d still be bitter about that._ “And I need your help. I’ve got a bit of an impossible case on my hands and…” He trailed.

“ _And you thought that I’d be able to help you track down whatever criminal-_ ”

“Not a criminal.”

“ _Oh? I thought you were a Bounty Hunter, ‘Tem._ ”

“I am. But this isn’t a criminal hunt.” He took a drag from the cigarette dangling between his lips. “This is a missing person hunt.”

“ _How do you expect me to help with that?_ ”

He flinched at the sour note in Yugi’s voice. “You know Seto Kaiba, yes?”

“ _Yes. I’m currently in the middle of taking his company from him._ ” Yugi snickered. “ _Why?_ ”

“His brother, Kaiba Mokuba, has asked me to help track down their adoptive brother.”

“ _Gozaburo’s son? I thought he got sick when he was little and died._ ”

“So did the Kaiba brothers. Apparently Mokuba dug up some information saying otherwise.” He flicked his ashes away. “Can you help or not?”

“ _I dunno. I’ll see what I can do. Ryou will probably be more help than I will._ ” Yugi sounded like he was shuffling papers - probably looking for something. " _I’ll see what my men can sniff out for you, though._ ”

He sighed in relief, taking another drag. “Thank you, Yugi. I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”

“ _It’s nothing_.” Yugi yawned, “ _And I was being an asshole, too, so it’s alright._ ”

Atem could only snicker in reply before the line went dead. Yugi was still a little spitfire three years later. Still all high and mighty in his position as Pharaoh - and had he mentioned Ryou Bakura? It was hard to believe that boy was still alive, really.

He’d been such a broken mess when Bakura had disappeared…

He’d really have to ask Yugi what had happened to the boy. Had he gotten over the disappearance? Unlikely. Learned to cope, perhaps?

Much more likely, but still probably not what had happened.

Ah, well. It hardly mattered. He didn’t have the time to wonder about this - he needed to track down Noa. He needed to find the young man as soon as he possibly could. He and his superiors were getting paid quite handsomely for this and he didn’t want young Mokuba to grow impatient with them. Nothing irked them more than a client who withdrew their payments.

* * *

 “Ryou?” Yugi tapped his fingers on his desk.

“ _I’m here._ ” Ryou’s voice was rather clipped. " _Do you need something?_ ”

“Are any of your trackers free at the moment? If so I need to borrow them.”

“ _Depends on what you need them for and how long you’ll need them._ ”

“Only as long as it takes for them to find Noa Kaiba.” Yugi made sure to sound as nonchalant as he possibly could. “Turns out ‘Tem needs my help and Mokuba found some documents that show the kid’s still alive.”

“ _I’ll send Viper to meet him._ ” Ryou replied immediately. “ _Tell him to be at the Mug Shot Bistro at six tonight._ ”

“Gotcha. Thanks, Ry.”

“ _Don’t mention it._ ” There was a hint of a smirk in the paler man’s voice. “ _I’ve gotta go. Talk to you later, Yugi._ ”

“Later.”

_Click._

Yugi groaned at the thought of calling Atem back. He hated being on the phone with someone more than once in the pan of ten minutes. He was about to dial the number when he remembered he didn’t have to call. He could text. And he didn’t have to be formal, either.

A relieved sigh passed through him.

_B @ the Mug Shot Bistro @ 6. -Y_

Three minutes later, his phone buzzed. _I’ll be there. Might I ask y tho? -A_

_ Got in touch w/ Ry. He directed me 2 a Bandit named Viper wholl meet u there. -Y _

_Awesome. Thx. -A_

_Np. -Y_

He couldn’t help a smile while he stared at his phone. He hadn’t spoken to Atem in three years - it was nice to do so again.

Ten minutes later, he could no longer stop himself. _Hey, Tem? -Y_

_Yeah? -A_

_Do u think we could hang sometime? I miss u. -Y_

_U actually have time 4 me? Thought u were busy being a mob boss. -A_

He cracked another smile. _I have plenty of time. There’s tons of ppl who can do my job 4 me. -Y_

He’d almost forgotten that he was speaking to Atem when he finally received a response two hours later.

_Ask me again when I’ve found Noa. -A_

 


	9. Chuckles

“So, you see, Zen, it’s beneficial for you to take over the day to day operations.” Ryou finished easily, working a bit of supernatural persuasion into his voice.

“It… Does appear that way, my Lord.” Zen agreed somewhat shakily. He knew when he was being ‘persuaded’. It merely meant his choices were extremely limited. He swallowed. “I will take over as soon as you wish, my Lord.”

“As soon as possible, Zen. Of course I will still be the one truly in charge and major decisions will have to be brought to me, but you’ll be the field leader! Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yes, my Lord.” A ‘no’ would be disastrous.

“Lovely.” Ryou smiled brightly. “I’ll be in Valhalla if you need me. Just give me a call if anything requires my immediate attention!” He turned away, waving, “Ta-ta!”

“Goodbye, sir.”

He was left standing in the Thieves’ Den alone with a knot growing in his stomach.

* * *

“You know what to do, Spectre.” Malik waved a hand. “I’ll be in Valhalla.”

“But, my Lord, are you sure you wish for _me_ to take over?” The other blinked owlishly at him. “I am hardly the leader that you are!”

“But you know what you’re doing.” He frowned. “You’ll manage. Feel free to call me if you do happen to need any help.”

“Y-yes, my Lord.” The other nodded. “Of course.”

“And don’t be so nervous. You have to show authority or they’ll never listen to you.”

He straightened his back. “Yes, sir!” He tried to appear confident and authoritative. “I will do my best, sir!”

“Good. Do not fail me.” He gave a smile. “Although I’m quite sure you won’t. That’s why you’re my second-in-command, Spectre. You’re reliable. You get the job done… You won’t let my Ghouls fall into disrepair, will you?”

“Of course not, sir. It would be a disgrace.”

“Yes… It would.”

There was a threat, there. One that Malik didn’t have to voice for Spectre to understand.

* * *

Yugi tapped his foot. “Yes. Until Bruiser finishes his mission, you’re in charge.” He clarified.

“But, your Majesty, I’m hardly qualified-”

“You’re just as qualified as Bruiser. Perhaps moreso.” He cut the other off. “And I will still be the leader - you’re merely here to act in my stead.”

“Why must I do so, my Pharaoh, if you don’t mind my asking?” He bowed his head.

“Because I need to clear my mind and refocus on our goals. There is too much in my head at the moment. I will be in Valhalla if you need me. You may call or send a grunt for my aid.” He looked him over for a moment. “And do not fail me, Cimarron.”

“I will do my best, my Lord.”

“Let’s hope that your best is good enough, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Great.” Yugi smiled and stood. “You’ll be taking over Bruiser’s office for the time being. Get yourself situated.”

He received a nod in response before the shorter man retreated from the room.

That thought made him laugh - there was actually someone out there shorter than he was. True, he’d had a growth spurt once he’d graduated high school, but the fact remained that he was still considerably shorter than Ryou and Malik were. _Considerably_. They each had at least three inches on him, now, when once he and Ryou had been nearly the same height. Maybe a half-inch or so off from each other.

That had been… How many years prior? Eight? Nine? He wasn’t sure.

He was still considering it when he entered Valhalla to find Ryou lounging on top of Malik instead of his cushion. He blinked, raised his eyebrows at them, and decided it was probably best not to question it.

“Ah, hello, Yugi.” Ryou said pleasantly, head resting quite comfortably on Malik’s chest. “Nice of you to join us.”

“Indeed.” Malik muttered. “Can you get him off of me? He’s refused to move since he got here even though I need to piss.”

“You can hold it. I’m comfortable.”

“You overestimate my bladder control.”

“You underestimate my stubbornness.”

“Well unless he wants to come sit in my lap on my throne you’re kind of fucked.” Yugi shrugged.

Ryou rose, then, grinning, and Yugi realized that he wasn’t quite as short as he’d thought he was. He could look Ryou directly in the eyes, nose to nose. If he was wearing the shoes he’d worn all the time in high school, the slightly heeled boots he’d loved, he’d be taller than the white-haired man. Distracted, he was pushed backwards into his throne and straddled while Malik jumped off of his chaise and disappeared into one of the other rooms.

“Mm… You’re just as cozy as he is.” Ryou sighed contentedly, laying his head on Yugi’s shoulder.

“What’s with you and laying on people today? You have a perfectly good pillow pile over there.” Yugi wrapped his arms around the skinnier man and shifted, getting comfortable. “And a throne of your own. And we could easily get you a chaise.”

“I’m just in a cuddly mood, okay?” He shrugged, sticking his tongue out at him. “And I didn’t feel like telling Malik that I wanted to cuddle. He probably would have said no, anyway, so I still would have ended up forcing my way into his lap.”

“Well you could have just told me.” Yugi rolled his eyes. “I can handle cuddling you.”

“Hooray.” He chuckled softly.

Malik returned a few moments later, flopping back down onto his chaise. “Enjoying being straddled like he’s about to ride you, Pharaoh?”

“I guess.” Yugi shrugged. “Has Ryou gotten around to telling you about what happened yesterday, by the way?”

“No, I don’t think he has.” Malik raised his brow. “What happened?”

“Atem called me.” After allowing Malik a second to pick his jaw up off the floor, Yugi continued, “Asking for help on a missing person’s case. Apparently Noa Kaiba is still alive.”

Why was it so satisfying to see Malik shell-shocked like that? Yugi would be damned if he knew. He supposed it probably had something to do with the rather volatile case of schadenfreude that he’d been nursing for the past three years. That seemed like the most likely reason.

“So… The little boy that supposedly died at the age of five, prompting his father to adopt the douchiest little piece of shit in all of Domino, is still alive?” Malik eventually said carefully, considering each word. “Sounds fake, but okay. What idiot decided to put a Bounty Hunter on the case?”

“Mokuba Kaiba.”

There went his jaw again. “Why would he even care enough to open up that particular can of worms?”

Yugi shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. Maybe he’s just curious about his adoptive brother? Wants to know if he’s actually okay or not? From what I know he dug up some papers that gave him some rather vague information that implied that Noa could still be alive to this day.”

“And he decided to get Atem Sennen on the case?”

Another shrug. “Atem always gets his man.”

“That’s true, I suppose.” Malik admitted. “How come he never got you, then?”

“Dunno. Maybe he just wasn’t interested in me like that.” Yugi wanted to shrug again, but he hated repetitive actions. Instead he settled for an ambiguous hand motion that was rather limited because of Ryou’s presence on his lap. “Anyway, I got Ryou to lend him Viper for the time being.”

“Mm, good idea.” The Egyptian said, “Viper’s a great tracker. But why not send Fire or Gorbasch?”

“They’re busy tracking down some of my Thieves with Reaper.” Ryou yawned, “My first recon team went missing.”

Both of them grimaced in reply.

“Bad luck.” Malik said.

“ _Very_ bad luck.” Yugi agreed. “Back to the subject at hand?”

“The subject of Atem getting your ass?” Malik snickered.

Yugi rolled his eyes. “He never got my ass. He wasn’t interested. But, I _did_ end up asking him if he wanted to hang out sometime since he’s suddenly talking to me again.”

“What’d he say?” Ryou looked up, intrigued.

He frowned. “He told me to ask him again after he finds Noa.”

Ryou snickered. Malik gave a rather dark sounding chuckle. Yugi scowled in reply.

“You’re awfully antsy to see him.” Ryou poked him in the ribs, pursing his lips against his shoulder and letting out a puff of air in an attempt to tickle him and get him to laugh. “For someone who said that if he was going to be a douchebag you never wanted to see him again either.”

Yugi swatted at his hand and bit his lip to avoid smiling. “It’s been three years. We both know that I can’t stay salty for three years, especially since he called me first.” After a long moment of the other two snickering some more, he added, “And he apologized.”

They stopped laughing rather abruptly.

“He what?” Ryou stared up at him as if the word “apologize” was unfamiliar to him.

“That’s what I’m wondering.” Malik managed after a brief pause to collect himself.

“He apologized for being an asshole.” Yugi found himself smiling a bit. “So yeah. I can’t wait to see him, okay?”

Ryou considered it. “Yeah, I can understand that now.” He said, finally. “If he’s gonna be acting the way he did before Yami and the others fucked off, he’d be nice to have around. Think you could get him to help us?”

“Maybe.”

“Get him with some eye for an eye sorta shit.” Malik suggested. “You and Ryou help him find Noa, he can damn well help you guys find the ones you’re looking for.”

Yugi cracked a smirk before a thought occurred to him. “Have we tried sending Fire and Gorbasch to look for Yami and the others?”

“No, but I doubt they’d find them.” Ryou pressed his lips together. “Even I haven’t found them yet and I’m better than both of them combined.”

“Good point.”

Their conversation wandered, from there, and as none of them were really expecting Yugi’s phone to go off, it scared them out of their wits. One really wouldn’t think that “Hey Jude” could scare anyone, but it certainly managed this one, lonesome time, and even then only for about five seconds.

“That’s Atem.” Yugi grinned. He fished his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open - he really needed to buy a new one… “Hello?”

_“Hey, Yugi. I’ve got some good news.”_

“What is it?” He sat up a little straighter, putting his phone on speaker for the sake of not holding it up to his ear.

 _“Viper and I have… Made some progress.”_ They could hear Viper murmuring in the background, along with the sound of rushing wind and cars going past. _“We’re already getting pretty close to- oh for_ **_fuck’s_ ** _sake, will you fucking_ **_drive_ ** _?!”_

Viper snickered. Yugi and Ryou had to bite their lips to prevent themselves from laughing, while Malik snorted, and then chortled. Ryou’s lips wobbled while he attempted valiantly to contain himself. Yugi prepared himself to ask Atem to finish his sentence, but was cut off before he even opened his mouth all the way by a long string of curses and more laughter from Viper and Malik.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and patiently waited.

“Pretty close to…?” Yugi prompted when Atem finally stopped cursing at whoever was driving in front of him.

 _“Shit. Sorry.”_ Atem sighed, _“Pretty close to someone who might know where Noa is.”_

“Wait, seriously? Who?”

_“Somebody named Pegasus.”_

“Pegasus…” Yugi scrunched his brows together. “ _Maximillion_ Pegasus?”

_“That’d be him.”_

Yugi had to join Malik’s chortles that time. “You’re on the trail of two rich guys, one of whom is the _only_ person in Japan with more money than Seto Kaiba! And the other? Oh, just his adoptive father’s _real_ son.” He snorted, “This case could turn out to be pretty embarrassing for that asshole. Let’s just hope he doesn’t find out that I was involved or my not-so-hostile takeover of his company might have to turn hostile.”

 _“I’ll make sure he only knows that I got a tracker from the Bandits to help me.”_ Atem chuckled. _“Then he’ll just be mad at the Bandit King.”_

Yugi got the strangest feeling that Atem didn’t actually realize who the Bandit King was. Oh, it was gonna be fun when he figured it out. The Pharaoh could just imagine the look on Atem’s face when he found out that Ryou Bakura, the shy little sneak-assassin, was the leader of a ruthless band of Thieves. He’d be so shell-shocked and it would be well-worth three years of silence to be able to see his jaw on the floor.

“I don’t see why we should let him be mad at _him_. All he did was let you have one of his Bandits. He could very well have not even known what you wanted the tracker for.” Yugi snickered. “But we both know that he knew full well what he was getting himself and his tracker into. I’m almost surprised that he didn’t send himself to your aid just to watch your jaw hit the ground when you figured out who he was.”

Ryou cursed under his breath. “I could have done that!” He mouthed, clearly displeased with himself. “It could have been marvelous!”

_“Is he really that vindictive?”_

“Oh yeah. Well… He can be, at least. He’s currently feeling rather cuddly, apparently.”

_“What makes you say that?”_

“The fact that he’s curled up in my lap hugging me.” Yugi stuck his tongue out at Ryou when he made a disgruntled noise. “And now he’s pouting because I told you that deep down he’s secretly a cuddlebug.”

All he received was a snort in response before Atem began to yell at the driver in front of him again. This outburst, like the last one, lasted for a few minutes and provided ample entertainment to all who could hear him. It seemed much more entertaining to Malik than to the others, perhaps because Atem continually switched to Arabic and Malik was the only other one present to who could speak it fluently.

It sounded _beautiful_ , really. More like an ancient, fictional language than a real, modern one. Yugi could remember times when Yami had soothed him to sleep in that language right alongside times when Atem had yelled at him from anger or fear of what he was getting himself into. Ever since he was in middle school, that language had been woven into every aspect of his life… Until recently.

What a shame, really, that he didn’t hear much of it anymore.

He didn’t speak it, himself, so there was no way to fill the void without having to request that Malik speak to him in his native tongue… And that would be utterly humiliating. Completely out of the question for that exact reason. He wouldn’t stoop that low just to hear someone speak Arabic to him.

And now he didn’t have to, so long as Atem stuck around. Atem naturally spoke in a strange (and occasionally incomprehensible) mixture of Arabic, English, and Japanese, and when asked would happily go right back to speaking his native language. He wouldn’t even bat an eyelash at such a request.

“So, ‘Tem.” He leaned back, finally growing impatient enough to try and speak over the older man. “Do I really have to wait until you find Noa to be able to hang out with you?”

 _“Depends on how long it’s going to take.”_ Atem cut himself off from swearing to reply. How considerate. _“If it’s only going to take another couple of days, yes. Any longer than that and I might stop in for a visit on Friday.”_

Yugi couldn’t help feeling giddy at that. A grin split his face and Ryou snickered into his shoulder. “Fair enough.” He said, barely keeping the intense happiness out of his voice. “I expect to see you Friday either way, you know.”

 _“I know.”_ There was a hint of a smile in Atem’s voice. _“I missed you. And I’ll call you back later. For now, I gotta go. We’re getting close to Pegasus’ mansion.”_

“Alright. Bye Temmy!”

 _“Goodbye,_ daw’ qualil _.”_

Yugi’s face flushed. He knew what that meant - that had been the Sennen brothers’ mutual nickname for him before Yami had disappeared. “Little light”, it meant. Hardly a fitting nickname anymore, but… It still made him feel all warm and fuzzy. It was a term of endearment, after all. That was more than enough for him.

He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unslaad krosis... Innumerable pardons.  
> Here within a couple of weeks, I will be moving. During the move, updates will be delayed or may not come at all. Dii krosis. My apologies. Hopefully they will merely be delayed but one can never be certain about these things.  
> Krosis zu'u fah dii krosis. Pardon me for my apologies.


	10. Once Upon A Time

The following day came and went for Yugi, boring as most of his days typically were, despite the near-constant companionship he now had. He almost preferred his previous loneliness, in a way, because when he was alone he could mope freely without fearing that anyone would bother him about it.

It _was_ still nice to have company sometimes, though.

Ryou was, after all, an incredibly friendly person if one could get past the way he normally acted, and Malik… Well, Malik wasn’t so bad either. Sure, he had his paranoid moments and he could be pretty scathing if he was in a bad mood but he could also be incredibly sweet when he wanted to be. Almost sweeter than Ryou, on some occasions, but only if he knew it could be helpful to act that way.

He was an opportunist, after all. If being sweet could get him (or all three of them) something that he or they wanted, he’d do it in a heartbeat. In the time it took him to go from his normal attitude to sweet, you could drop a pin from knee height and it wouldn’t even touch the ground before he was done. Yugi thought it was amazing how quickly the other two could go from professional and irritated to casual and loving. How well they could act.

If he could learn how to do that, he could quite possibly be set for life.

He snorted at the thought, scratching the side of neck. He readjusted himself to get more comfortable, folding his arms behind his head. Three years before, he would have scoffed at the notion that one day he’d find it more entertaining to stare at his ceiling and think than hang out with anyone, but nowadays…

It was definitely true, he’d say that much.

But now that his mind was on the past, it was going to be difficult to pull it back to the present. And why should he pull it back, anyway? He had nothing better to be doing at the moment. Why shouldn’t he just lull himself to sleep with fond memories of being held close and knowing he was loved by someone? It was almost a foreign feeling now - love.

He sighed.

_“Daw’ qalil?” Yami whispered into his hair._

_“Yeah?” He wanted to open his eyes and look up into Yami’s beautiful red irises, but he was far too comfortable to move._

_His face was buried in Yami’s chest, arms looped loosely around the older man’s waist. He was warm, mind foggy from contentment, and his body was on the verge of falling right to sleep. He wanted to go to bed this way every night for the rest of his life… Next to Yami._ **_His_ ** _Yami…_

_“I was wondering… Do you really love me?”_

_“Of course.” He nuzzled into his chest. “More than anything else in the world. Why?”_

_“I suppose I am just paranoid.” He gave a soft sigh, pressing a kiss into the smaller’s hair. “I love you too, you know.”_

_“I never doubted it for a second.” Yugi smiled. “I know I can trust you, but I understand your paranoia.” He shifted his head slightly, kissing his shoulder. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you’re here for me to be with, I swear. You’re the only one I want.”_

_“You wouldn’t leave me for anyone else?”_

_“Never. I don’t think I could even be attracted to anyone else, Yami. Except… Well, maybe Atem, but we both know he doesn’t feel that way about me and he probably never would.”_

_He heard Yami stifle a chuckle. “The only person you would leave me for is my brother? Really?”_

_“Really.” Yugi couldn’t help chuckling. It was good that Yami wasn’t offended by that. It was good that it didn’t seem to bother him. “You two… You’re all I’ve ever wanted. And I certainly prefer you, but I can’t say for sure that, if Atem felt the same way about me that you do, I wouldn’t want to be with him.”_

_“I suppose that’s good enough for me.” Yami didn’t bother stifling this chuckle. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me that.”_

_“Why would I feel the need to hide it from you? That would just make you suspicious, wouldn’t it?”_

_“Good point. There really isn’t anyone else, though?”_

_“No one comes to mind.” He went back to burying his face in the other’s chest. “I’ll let you know if someone does, though.”_

_“Alright.” There was a definite smile in Yami’s voice. “I love you, daw’ qalil.”_

_“I love you too, habibi.”_

_He heard Yami suck in a breath._

_He’d been practicing that word for a long time, in order to surprise him. He’d murmured it until the pronunciation was perfect. Until it slid right off his tongue like any other word. It was the only word of Arabic besides the Sennen brothers’ nickname for him that he understood, and he’d taught it to himself. He was proud of that. But did Yami like it…?_

_“Daw’ qalil…” He murmured. “What you just said…” Yugi swallowed hard against the lump growing in his throat while Yami seemed to search for words. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear a word of my native tongue leaving your mouth.”_

_After that, he murmured a single phrase, over and over again, into Yugi’s hair. Yugi thought he might be thanking him. And he also thought that it felt like Yami was crying._

He sniffled at the memory, tears beginning to prick at his eyes. He pinched himself as hard as he could and yelped, blinking the remaining tears away. There. That was better.

 _No more tears._ He reminded himself. _You promised yourself that you wouldn’t cry anymore_.

So he laid there for a moment, calming himself and forcing down the familiar lump in his throat until he could swallow. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths until his breath no longer hitched in his throat. A sigh preceded his eyes reopening. He smiled, thinking about how proud Yami would be of his control over his emotions. Yami would be ecstatic that he’d finally learned not to cry about the past. That he’d grown as a person and could now look back on his childhood without sadness.

Everything after Yami had showed up was still a subject of a sort of fond sadness, but he was certainly working on that as well, much as he didn’t want to.

_“I do not mean to upset you further, daw’ qalil, but you cry too much.” Yami sighed, arms wrapped around him and legs crossed beneath him._

_“I know.” Yugi sniffled. “I’m sor-” He hiccuped. “I’m sorry.”_

_“Do not apologize for something you likely have no control over.” Yami chided gently. “It was not my intent to make you feel guilty for it.”_

_“I feel guilty about it not matter what.” He sat back slightly, unwinding his arms from around Yami to wipe away his tears. He sniffled again and looked at him with a rather watery frown. “I always run straight to you when I’m upset and I really shouldn’t. It’s not your job to comfort me.”_

_“It could be.” Yami murmured, gently cupping his cheek._

_“What do you…?”_

_The feeling of Yami’s lips against his was_ heaven _. He’d been dreaming of it for years, but none of his dreams had ever come close to matching just how amazing it actually was in practice. He moaned softly, immediately flushing in embarrassment when he realized he’d made any noise at all. Yami smiled against his lips, pulling back and stroking his cheek with one of his thumbs._

_“You were asking what I meant?” He chuckled._

_“Um… Y-yes, I was.” Yugi went even brighter red, this time because he hated how calm Yami could be while he was flustered._

_“I mean, we could be together. Your response to the kiss indicates that you wouldn’t be opposed…” Yami raised his eyebrows as if asking him a question._

_“Yes.” He felt himself tearing up again, so he wiped them away before they fell. “Yes.”_

_Yami smiled and kissed him again. Yugi felt gross and wet, but Yami didn’t seem to mind his runny nose much. In fact, he didn’t even comment on it. It almost seemed like he wasn’t even going to acknowledge it._

_“I love you.” He murmured, voice shaky and unsure. Was it too soon for that?_

_“I love you too.” Yami smiled at him. “Now go get yourself cleaned up, alright?”_

_“Okay.” He smiled an incredibly watery smile and unfolded himself from Yami’s lap, stumbling over to the bathroom door._

He found himself smiling at that particular memory. God, he missed Yami. He missed him so much, and if they succeeded… Oh, he couldn’t wait until they did.

It was no longer a matter of ‘if’ they succeeded in their plan. It was merely a matter of ‘when’ they would. When would they put the next stage of their plan in motion? When would Ryou finally claim the rest of the East? When would Seto finish signing over Kaiba Corp? When, oh _when_ , could they finally, _finally_ begin the _important_ part of their plan?

The best part?

His favorite part…

Oh, just… When?

To bring himself away from the thoughts he knew would lead to something of a psychotic episode, he turned his mind to the past yet again.

_He could still remember it like it was yesterday, despite his memory’s habit of becoming incredibly foggy where important memories were concerned._

_He’d been sitting, quietly, alone in the back of the classroom. His fingers had been fiddling with some puzzle or game that his grandfather had given him - it was hard telling which - under the table. He’d only been half listening to the teacher, more interested in the puzzle or game than anything the teacher might have had to say. What did he care about math, anyway?_

_But then the door had creaked open and in had walked Yami Sennen._

_Yugi fell in love instantly._

_That had been foolish of him - he was only ten. What did he know about love at that age? What did he know about this exotic stranger?_

_Nothing, that’s what. He knew nothing and that was why he was so blissfully in love with him from the first second he saw him. He had no pre-formed misconceptions about love. He had no thoughts of, “What if he finds out?!” or “Would he even understand anything I said?”. All he could think of was how much he’d like to hug and kiss that man._

_“Please introduce yourself to the class.” The teacher had said, voice gentle and sweet. She spoke slowly to make sure the boy understood._

_He nodded hesitantly. “Hello.” He said, rather unsurely. Then he straightened his back a bit and spoke a little more confidently. “I am Yami Sennen. It is a pleasure to meet you all.”_

_It wasn’t until later that Yugi found out the boy didn’t even know what he was saying past ‘hello’. All he knew was that his brother had told him to say it._

_“Thank you, Yami. Please have a seat.” She motioned toward the empty group of seats near Yugi. “Any of those is fine.”_

_He nodded again and meandered over, considering each of the desks for a moment before taking a seat beside Yugi._

_“Now, Yami is from Egypt and doesn’t speak much Japanese.” The teacher explained, causing a few ‘oooh’s and ‘aaah’s. “Would anyone like to volunteer to teach him.”_

_“I will!” Yugi said immediately, sticking his hand in the air._

_It was incredibly out of character. Usually he was quiet and the very idea of speaking in class mortified him, but he really didn’t want to pass up this opportunity. Didn’t want someone else to raise their hand and get to know Yami before he could. He may have been young but he knew that everyone else was more popular than he was and if Yami befriended someone else first he’d never,_ ever _get a chance to talk to him._

_“Thank you Yugi.” The teacher smiled, and she seemed almost relieved in a way. “I know you’re responsible enough to take this seriously.”_

_“I will do my best, sensei.”_

_She nodded to him, and when he looked around all he saw was Joey Wheeler staring at him and Yami. The boy seemed mildly impressed, gaze obviously on him rather than the Egyptian next to him for the most part, though he occasionally flicked his eyes to Yami. When he noticed Yugi could see him staring, his face flushed and he gave an apologetic smile, turning his head away. Less than a minute later, he glanced at them again._

_His expression made his thoughts clear - he wanted to befriend one of them, and judging by the way his eyes lit up when he looked at Yami… It wasn’t Yugi._

_Normally, that would have made Yugi sad. But if he managed to befriend Yami first, and then someone else befriended him, he could quite possibly gain some friends through him._

_And it turned out that that was exactly how it worked._

_The moment he actually gained Yami’s trust, Yami invited him over to meet his big brother. Atem was a sweetheart, really, but Yugi couldn’t help feeling sorry for both of them when he realized that they lived in what was essentially a rundown shack on the edge of town._

_Immediately, he invited them to stay the night at his house, and they agreed almost too happily. And then, over the course of about a week, he convinced them to move in with him. His grandfather had no argument for why they couldn’t live with them, after all, and they were very quick to begin helping out around the Game Shop when they weren’t at school. They carried their own weight and honestly Yugi couldn’t have been happier even if neither of them returned the affections that he felt growing for them._

The sound of a window opening shook him from his thoughts. He sat up, staring across the room.

A silhouette blocked the light from the streetlamps below them, paused halfway into the room. They remained locked in silence for a long moment before the silhouette sighed and made his way the rest of the way into the room. He turned to close the window behind him and Yugi’s heart fluttered in his chest.

Atem.

“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” Yugi informed him with a wry smirk. “What brings you here a day early, hm?”

“Turns out it’s gonna take longer than expected.” Atem shrugged as he approached. “Figured I’d stay the night with you. Talk to you a little. Learn some shit.”

 _Hm._ Yugi thought. _Fair enough._ He repeated the thought aloud when Atem seated himself on the edge of the bed. “But I don’t see why you couldn’t wait until tomorrow to do that.”

“I missed you, okay? And it’s… It’s been a long time since we really spent the night together.”

“True.” Yugi shrugged and patted the space next to him. “C’mere.”

He wasn’t even ashamed when, after Atem got situated, the first thing he did was yank him close and kiss him. Hard. Nor was he ashamed of the loud, pleased noise he made when Atem kissed him back and tangled his fingers in his hair. His arms looped around Atem’s shoulders, teeth scraping against the other’s lips.

And the next thing he knew, he was on his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick thing-  
> If you're scared to ask questions or you feel like you're bothering me by leaving a comment, I just want you to know I have no life and it makes me happy to answer questions and reply to comments.


	11. Rendezvous

“Ryou?” Malik watched him carefully over the table. “Could I ask you a personal question?”

Night was beginning to fall outside. They’d only gotten to Ryou’s house about twenty minutes beforehand and the Brit had insisted on making tea.

So far, they’d sat across from each other in relative silence, watching every move the other made. Ryou was doing his best to appear nonchalant, but his muscles were tensed, rippling across his uncovered arms. His bracelets glinted with every twitch, his heavily ringed fingers wrapped uneasily around his teacup. He was the picture of anxiety.

Malik wasn’t sure how he felt about the Ryou of three years prior resurfacing. And there was no denying that was who this was - he was too nervous to be the Bandit King or the Ryou he’d spoken to just the day before. He was too nervous and there was clearly some fear in his eyes.

What was he afraid of.

“Depends on what it is.” Ryou said in his usual pleasant lilt. Even his voice sounded tense, despite his attempts to sound casual.

How could he word the question he wanted to ask? Eventually he decided on, “Why do we keep doing this, Ryou? We’re not even friends, let alone friends with benefits.” He scowled at him. “So why do we even bother?”

“Because we’re horny?” Ryou suggested lamely, shrugging weakly and averting his eyes. “I don’t know, Malik.”

“Do you even want to be friends? Or anything else for that matter?”

“Yes!” Ryou’s eyes were back on him in less time than it took him to say it. “Yes, actually, I fucking do! You know what the problem with that is, though?” He stared him directly in the eyes.

There was the Bandit King he knew.

“Enlighten me.” He growled. He wanted to challenge Ryou - wanted to make him squirm. He supposed that was just a remnant of Marik...

“The problem with me wanting to be friends is that I _can’t_ be friends with you!” He sat his teacup down rather heavily, liquid sloshing out onto the table. “I’m not even going to get into the fact that I always manage to fuck that sort of shit up _somehow_ , but I _am_ going to tell you that I can’t even fucking understand my emotions well enough to know how I fucking feel about you! I don’t know if I hate you or if I like you because nothing fucking makes sense anymore.” The rant lost all of its steam on the last sentence. His voice lowered, eyes dropping down to the table. His shoulders slumped and as Malik watched the other’s eyes filled with tears. “The problem with me wanting to be friends,” He repeated softly, very clearly making an effort not to let his voice shake as much as it was, “is that I can’t tell if I actually want to be friends or if I want to be with you or if I just want to fuck and never see you again.” He gave an irritated noise, “I’ve _tried_ to love you, Malik, I really fucking have. I’ve tried and tried but I can’t tell if it’s working.”

He wiped his eyes, sniffling, and Malik realized that he felt _guilty_ now. It was his fault that Ryou was crying. His fault that Ryou was confused. He shouldn’t have asked the question, but he needed the answer. So Ryou was confused, hm? How did he know for sure that he wasn’t acting?

Ryou was an excellent actor, after all. What if he was putting on a show to avoid answering the question honestly?

“Prove it.” He said after a moment. “Prove to me that that’s the real reason, because I know how good you are at acting and I know how easy it is for you to lie.”

Ryou sighed, then, a despaired and trembling sound, and looked up at him. “I wouldn’t lie about this. I know you probably won’t believe that, but I do try not to lie when I’m not doing business.” He took a deep breath and swallowed. “I don’t know what you want me to do to prove it, Malik. It’s not like you’ll believe me, no matter what I do.”

“You’re smart, you’ll figure something out.” When had he gotten so good at hiding his guilt? He almost couldn’t hear it, himself, and he knew it was there in his voice.

Ryou stared at him for a long moment, eyes flickering between emerald green and light chocolate brown - Malik still wasn’t sure why or how they did that. He only knew that green-eyed Ryou was not someone you wanted to be around unless you liked pain and torment. Green-eyed Ryou was a genuine sociopath. He was nothing like what Marik and Bakura had been - sure, they were considered “psychotic” by everyone who knew them, but when Ryou’s eyes were green those two had _nothing_ on him. He could make men twice his size cower in fear - there was a very good reason for Zen doing everything he was told, after all.

Eventually, Ryou sighed again, eyes settling on chocolate. Malik felt some tension leave his shoulders.

“I only know one trick for this.” Ryou murmured. “Bakura showed it to me a long time ago. It makes the target feel exactly what the caster feels. Maybe you could clear things up for me if I did it.”

“Go ahead and give it a try.” Malik shrugged. “What do you have to do?”

“It’s simple, really. A rather rudimentary shadow magic trick.” Ryou’s lips twitched. “Just give me your hand - there has to be skin to skin contact.”

He held his own hand out over the table, gentle and inviting, and Malik didn’t even hesitate to place his hand in the other’s. Immediately, shadow magic jumped across their skin and then, all of a sudden, Malik felt a whirlwind of emotions. He felt like there was a gaping hole in his chest at the same time that he felt a warm, tired happiness. There were so many conflicting emotions that he had to jerk his hand away and cut off the connection.

No wonder Ryou was confused.

He hadn’t realized that, during the very brief encounter, he’d closed his eyes and lowered his head. When he blinked his eyes back open, there were tears trailing down his cheeks and his fists were clenched in his lap. He lifted his head to look at Ryou, who was simply staring at him silently. His brown eyes were sadder, now, and there was fear just beneath the surface. What was he scared of?

It was hard telling, even with the glimpse he’d gotten into the other’s emotions.

“I believe you.” He told him, wiping the tears away. “There’s no way you couldn’t be confused.”

Ryou gave a very weak smile. “I’m glad you believe me.”

“Wanna give it another try? I wanna see if I can help you figure out how you feel about me.”

A wry, slightly stronger smile. “You just want to know why I wanna fuck you - or, rather, why I want _you_ to fuck _me_.”

He grinned. “That might be some of the reason.”

Ryou held out his hand again, Malik took it. The strings of shadow magic flickered over their skin. And… There were the emotions. Malik forced himself to hold still, considering each one he could feel very carefully.

Fear. Anger. Amusement. He wanted to kill himself. He wanted to kill everyone else. The was so much he wanted to do… So much pain he wanted to cause.

“Ryou,” He murmured when he’d sorted through everything. “You’ve got some serious problems.”

Ryou laughed.

* * *

 Later, once Ryou had cleaned up the spilt tea and settled his nerves with another cup, Malik led him to the bedroom. Ryou knew where this was going. He knew Malik well enough to know what was going to happen.

He was still surprised, however, when Malik didn’t pin him down like he normally did. When he didn’t shove him into the mattress and fuck him until he couldn’t feel his legs.

He was gentle, this time. Slow and purposeful, dragging it out as long as he could instead of rushing to finish. His fingers dragged slowly over Ryou’s skin after he stripped him completely, nails teasing over already erect nipples and eliciting a shudder from the paler man below him. The other hand trailed down his side, leaving behind a fiery feeling where his fingers had been. He rubbed the inside of the other’s thigh bringing his hands so painfully close to the growing erection that he knew Ryou wanted him to touch.

But he didn’t. He kept his hands away from it by nothing more than an inch at all times.

“Malik,” Ryou whined. “Why are you teasing tonight?”

“Because I can.” He snickered. “Do you not like it?”

“You’re driving me crazy.” He shifted, face flushing slightly.

“You’re already crazy, dear.” Malik reminded him gently, scraping his nails over his chest.

Ryou’s back arched, eyes closing, blush coating his cheeks. Malik wasn’t sure if he was blushing because of his ministrations or if it was because of the pet name. Either was fine with him, really. He liked seeing some color on that pale face - and the pretty lines of red that his nails left behind were rather pleasing, as well.

“That’s true…” Ryou agreed softly. “But do you really wanna make it worse?” He joked, opening his eyes and smiling up at him.

“Maybe.” He snickered again, leaning down. “I like it when you’re crazy.” He captured Ryou’s lips with his own before he could reply.

Usually they didn’t kiss. They’d bite and suck on each other’s skin, leave marks all over, but their lips tended to evade each other. Even when one of them thought about it, they never ended up doing it. They were either too nervous to cross that particular line or too caught up in the moment to remember to do it. Neither one was sure how the other would react. How it would affect their sorry excuse for a ‘relationship’.

But this time their lips mingled for a few moments before Malik had to pull away to make sure Ryou was alright with it. He didn’t want to do anything that wasn’t okay, right now. He was trying to build a relationship, here, just in case…

Just in case they did fail and never found Marik, Yami, and Bakura.

Well, he didn’t care so much about finding Yami, but he hoped they could at least find Bakura, for Ryou’s sake. Marik would be a bonus. Yami would just be luck. But finding Bakura… Seeing the way Ryou’s eyes would light up and just thinking about how he’d probably never see his eyes flare green in anger again…

“Is that okay?” He murmured, searching the other’s expression.

“Yes.” Ryou breathed. “Yes, that’s okay.”

Their lips met again in a tender sort of dance, slipping across each other. Grazings of teeth and hesitant touches of tongue soon became gentle bites and Ryou’s thin fingers tangling in Malik’s platinum hair and giving one or two firm tugs.

“Malik,” Ryou whispered when he pulled back, “ _Please_.”

“Alright.” He agreed readily, kissing him one more time before sitting up to pull his shirt up over his head and shove his pants and boxers down past his ankles and off the bed. “Can I call you baby?” He inquired with a soft kiss to the other’s chin while he got situated in between his legs.

“If you want.” Ryou’s face flushed again.

“Okay, baby.” He kissed his chin again. “Do you want any prep?”

“I’m fine without it. Besides… We both know I feel about a little pain.” Ryou’s lip curled slightly on one side.

“True enough.” Malik chuckled. Then he pulled him up into his lap, deciding that it was a much more intimate position, anyway, and all the better for listening to the breathy gasps and near-inaudible moans he’d be hearing tonight. “But are you sure you’re ready, baby?”

Ryou didn’t reply verbally, merely getting himself more properly situated and then rolling his hips downward to grind against the already leaking erection below. Malik groaned, taking that as a ‘yes’ that was simultaneously a challenge. “You don’t have the balls to put it all in at once,” Ryou was saying, by doing that. He’d pulled it a few times before, usually when he was impatient.

He took the challenge, just like he usually did. He lined himself up, pressed in enough to make sure he wouldn’t miss, and then pulled the white-haired man down rather forcefully.

Ryou trembled, crying out and wrapping his arms tightly around Malik’s shoulders. “Yes!”

He didn’t even complain when the next thrusts were slow and gentle. He just panted quietly into Malik’s ear and rolled his hips down to meet each thrust, keeping pace patiently with him. He could go slow, if he wanted. He could go slow and he could enjoy every second of it.

He pressed himself closer. “Malik… What do you think now…?” The thin ropes of shadow magic flickered over the intricate carvings on Malik’s back.

“Not in love with me, that’s for damn sure.” Malik grunted. “But you don’t just want to fuck and run, either.”

“What do I want to do, then?” Ryou pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Seems like you just want to be friends with benefits.” Malik did his best to shrug while continuing to thrust up into him. “Unless we don’t find them or we spend enough time together. Then you want to possibly be something more.”

“Seems…” Ryou had to pause, groaning softly and letting his head fall against Malik’s shoulder. “Seems like me.”

Malik snickered, shifting the much lighter man. “Yes. Now hush unless you’re going to keep groaning and panting in my ear like that. It’s cute.”

He gasped quietly at the slight change in position. “Oh, I’ll do much more than groan and pant~” He purred.

Malik shivered, closing his eyes and gently squeezing the other’s hips. He gave one hard, quick thrust before returning to his previous pace, revelling in the throaty moan that was muffled in his shoulder.

“Malik, please…” Ryou murmured. “Please, please, _please_ , I need more.”

The masochistic part of him hoped Malik would ignore him because going slow like this was _torture_ . He didn’t think he’d ever actually gone slow and gentle for a whole round before - certainly never with Malik. Oh, it was _agonizing_ , really, but he loved it.

“More?” Malik snorted. “Maybe next round.” Regardless, he gave another thrust like the one that had made the other cry out.

It gave a similar result this time. It was followed by a whine and a very deliberate tightening of Ryou’s slightly twitching hole around his cock. He grunted, squeezing him gently. “You…” He searched for a word. “... Saucy little minx.”

“You wanted to call me a slut,” Ryou teased between soft pants. He tensed himself up again, giving a soft mewl of satisfaction.

“Mn… Yeah. I did.” He bit his lip. “But I don’t think there’s such a thing as a classy slut.”

“I’ll just have to be the only one then.” Ryou shrugged. “... Just realized something.”

Malik hummed to tell him to go on, shifting him again.

“Your cock actually fits all the way inside me like this.” He purred.

Malik couldn’t help a shiver and a somewhat violent thrust. “So it does,” He grunted after Ryou’s grip on his shoulders eased again and his exclamation of pleasure had faded back into panting and whining. “Guess we’ll just have to do this more often.”

“The position? Definitely.” Ryou nuzzled into his neck. “But if you think… That I’m patient enough… To fuck this slow… Every time… You’re wrong.” He bit down and shifted his hips slightly, letting out a long groan on the next thrust, before Malik could even think of a response. “Ah, fuck…” He squeezed his shoulders. “There…”

Malik adjusted his hold on Ryou’s hips to keep them where they were and continued at a steady pace, revelling in the gasps of his name and the curses falling from the pale lips that were attempting to work a hickey into the skin of his neck.

“Faster,” Ryou begged quietly, “please, I’m getting close…”

Malik obliged, picking up his pace a bit - not as fast as they’d normally be going, but certainly more fulfilling for both of them. Ryou moaned, of course, legs squeezing his hips and arms squeezing his shoulders while he struggled not to dig his nails into the carvings on Malik’s back. Malik loved that he was so considerate of them. So careful not to hurt him, even when they both agreed that a little pain was fine in bed.

“Malik… Fuck.”

Malik wasn’t sure if Ryou had intended to say something else or if he was simply saying his name for the hell of it. He didn’t really care. He liked hearing his name being gasped out like that.

“M-malik, I… I’m gonna…”

Ah, so that was what he was trying to say. Goddamn that stutter was cute.. “Go on, then, baby. Cum for me.”

Unlike usual, Malik came first. Ryou tightened around him once and that was too much for him and he spilt inside the other.

“Ah, yes…” Ryou purred, eyes half-lidded, “Fill me up.”

The Egyptian grunted in response, thrusting once, twice, thrice more before Ryou’s cum splattered up onto their chests. His movements stilled, a hand going to Ryou’s erection to milk the last few drops of cum out and guide him down gently from the high.

Ryou slumped against him, breathing gently through his nose. “Fuck, Malik, that was…”

“Better than you were expecting?” Malik quirked an eyebrow and left a kiss on the side of his head.

Ryou nodded tiredly. Malik only chuckled and nuzzled into his hair, content to sit there forever if he could or had to.

* * *

 “A-atem…” Yugi gently tugged at his hair.

“Yugi…” Atem murmured as he pulled away. “I’m sorry. I… I can’t.”

Yugi nodded weakly, body trembling just from the heated kisses they’d shared and the way Atem was currently sitting in between his legs. “I understand.” He informed him. “I’m sorry I kissed you in the first place.”

“Don’t be.” Atem chuckled. “I’d be more than happy to have you do it again… But you’re Yami’s. You’re his whether he’s here or not, and I’m not crossing that line.”

“I don’t blame you. But…” He looked up at him hopefully. “Can we like… Cuddle or something? I didn’t realize how starved I was for human touch until now.”

“Of course we can cuddle.” Atem chuckled again, maneuvering to lay down next to him. “I love cuddling.”

“Me too.” Yugi smiled before snuggling up to his side and throwing a leg over his. “And you’re so _warm_.”

“I’ve been told that, from time to time.” The older man wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Usually by Yami.”

“You’re like a natural heater.” He snuggled closer. “It’s awesome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this will not be updated until Tuesday of next week because I'm busy packing for the move next week.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	12. Defeat

While Ryou was certainly in a better mood than he’d been in in a long time, the Bandits were still wary of his wide smile and raised brows.

“My Lord,” The recently found Camille stepped forward, bowing, “if I may… What has you in such a good mood?”

“I have found the location of our little small time crime lord.” The Bandit King chuckled. “The upstart has had the gall to move his base of operations nearer to ours.” The Bandits all shared a chuckle. “We’ll be… ‘Encountering’ him later today.”

A cheer.

They were all ready for some action of some kind. They wanted to see bloodshed. They wanted to see a fight. Maybe take part in one. Every single one of them was raring to go - perfect. Ryou loved knowing how ready they were for conflict.

They were going to make great soldiers one day.

* * *

 “Indeed!” Ryou cackled into the phone.

 _“You’re really claiming what’s left of the West today?”_ Yugi sounded vaguely disbelieving.

“Yes. My little small-time crime lord is evidently an idiot.” He twirled his hair around his finger with a smug smirk, leaning back in his chair. “All I have to do is challenge him, you know. If he’s a real crime lord he’ll take the challenge and I’ll mop the floor with him.”

Silence. Then, _“It’s almost hard to believe, after all this time.”_ Yugi sighed. _“You’re sure you can beat him, though?”_

“We both know I don’t play fair, my dear Pharaoh.” Ryou snickered. “Even if I’m outmatched physically, I’ll find a way to break him.”

 _“I suppose you’re right.”_ Yugi admitted. _“Update me when the fight’s over, yeah?”_

“Yeah, of course.”

_“Anything else you wanna talk about while we’re on the phone?”_

“Not really.” Ryou sighed. “Maybe I’ll have thought of something by the time I’ve curb stomped this little upstart.”

_“Maybe. Well, in that case, bye.”_

“Bye.” He turned, then, to look at Zen. “Has he left his hideout yet?”

“Yes, my Lord. Less than two minutes ago. I sent Angel and Vanilla to stall him from going wherever he was going.”

“Marvelous.” He stood, brushing off his tunic. “Bring me my spare shenti. I have a larger range of motion in that.”

“Yes, sir.” He disappeared behind a curtain for a moment before returning. “Would you like me to assist you in putting it on?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Zen.”

The skinnier man shrugged out of his Thief’s Coat, then pulled the tunic up over his head, discarding it. Zen stared, for a moment, still rather entranced by the Bandit King’s body despite the amount of times he’d seen it exposed. There were scars that he only vaguely remembered the sources of - a round puncture through the center of his left hand, a vertical slit on his upper arm - and some that he knew quite intimately - sparring scars on his lower abdomen and back. The Bandit King currently wore nothing except a pair of very tight, very short black shorts that clung to the boney hips and surprisingly well-shaped cheeks. The shorts were a stark contrast to the pale skin and white hair, truly bringing attention to themselves.

He was sure Ryou had chosen that particular pair on purpose.

He moved forward, straightening out the shenti and wrapping it around the other’s waist. He held it still while Ryou maneuvered it around, wrapping it, tucking it this way and that. He let go when he was sure Ryou had it all sorted out, stepping away. The Bandit King threw him a wicked smile, picking up his tunic from the ground and folding it up.

“This will be incredibly satisfying.” He informed him. “Though…” He looked him over. “Not as satisfying as the things I’m sure you would rather be doing.” The wicked grin returned with vengeance.

Zen felt his cheeks heating. “Sir?”

“Don’t think I can’t see the lust in your eyes.” There was an almost sultry tone to Ryou’s voice. “I know what you’re thinking about, dear. I’m almost tempted to give you what you want… But I have things I need to take care of before that.”

Zen wasn’t sure, but he thought he might look a bit like a tomato by now. “Sir, I…”

“You can’t argue what I can clearly see.” Ryou gave his crotch a pointed look.

Okay, so _now_ he probably looked like a tomato. “Sir, it would be inappropriate for us to…”

“Ah, damn what’s appropriate.” Ryou waved a hand as he sat his folded tunic on the throne and retrieved his coat. “If I win I’ll take care of you, yeah?”

“Alright, sir.” He did his best not to stutter. He was supposed to be a brave, angry man, not a blushing schoolgirl with a crush on their boss. “But we both know there’s not much chance of you losing, so there’s no use in saying ‘if’.”

“Of course there isn’t, but there is still the very slim possibility and it’s best not to let myself get too big-headed.” He shrugged on the coat. “What would you prefer, by the way?”

“Sir?”

“My lips, my dick, or my ass?” He gave that wicked grin again.

“Um, my Lord…” If he hadn’t been red before, he was now. He had to swallow and clear his throat before continuing. “Whichever you are most comfortable with, my Lord.”

“Mm.” Ryou’s eyes swept over him. “Alright. It’ll be a surprise, then.” He cackled, “Shall we?” He motioned toward the door.

“Yes, your Majesty.”

The trip to where the upstart was hiding was a short one, but for Zen it was incredibly tense. And awkward. And _oh, God, why is my boss such a hypersexual freak sometimes?_

The Bandit King was unperturbed, however, merely sitting next to him in the car with that pleasant expression he was so well-known for. He wondered if his boss’s face ever got sore from forcing that smile.

When they arrived, he got out first, hurrying around to the other side to open Ryou’s door for him.

“Thank you, Zen.” He chuckled as he emerged from the car.

Ryou was almost disappointed by what he saw. His small time crime lord was a short, chubby man with squinting eyes and an apparently permanent frown on his face. He was waiting impatiently, surrounded by his own men and flanked by Ryou’s to prevent them from going anywhere. Judging by the scorch marks, he would have to guess that a few of the other’s men had been stupid enough to challenge Angel.

That lightened his mood again.

“Hello.” He greeted the other boss pleasantly. “It’s nice to finally see the upstart who’s been encroaching on my territory… Although, I must say I was expecting someone a little more intimidating.”

“You’re one to talk.” The other spat at his feet. “You look like a fucking faggot.”

A few of his men seemed uncomfortable about the insult. Ryou almost felt sorry for them. “Oh, I assure you I’m a much more terrifying than you’ll ever be.”

“As if.” He spat at him again.

“If you keep doing that,” Ryou smiled. “I’ll rip out your tongue.”

“Fucking try it, fag.”

“I could… Or perhaps we could do what I came here for.”

“And that is?”

“Fight. One on one, you and me.”

He snorted. “I’ll break you.”

“I doubt that. Angel, Vanilla, get his men out of my way.”

His men were very easily persuaded to back off away from him while his right hand (or at least Ryou assumed that was who the man was) stayed stubbornly at his side. Zen was all too happy to forcefully remove him.

What followed could hardly be referred to as a fight. It was more like a public flogging.

The other boss was sluggish and put too much faith in his fists while Ryou was more than agile enough to dodge them and get in plenty of hits of his own. He did get caught, of course, with a hard right hook directly to the jaw. Blood blossomed in his mouth. He fought down the urge to rip the man’s soul straight from his body, pushed down the part of him that was telling him to crush him into the dust. Instead, he smiled, wiped the blood away, and decked the other as hard as he could directly in the nose.

He felt it break more than heard it - felt the cartilage shatter against his knuckles and felt the blood rush down onto them. And it felt _so_ satisfying that he couldn’t stop himself when his instincts told him to yank the man closer and knee him in the groin. Turn. Elbow him in the stomach. Grab him by the shoulder and the side of the neck and use all his strength and the man’s forward momentum to throw him over his shoulder and onto the ground.

It brought the man’s skin, his whole body, far closer to Ryou than he would have liked. It disgusted him, for the two seconds they were touching, and the second the man was on the ground all Ryou could think to do was kick him in the chin.

He grinned down at him, then turned his eyes up to the man’s little gang. All of them were staring, astonished. Ryou had won.

Of course he’d cheated - he always did.

He’d enhanced his speed, used his shadow magic to make himself strong enough to lift the bastard, but no one would know unless they knew how to spot the signs. Only Zen and the higher grunts would have been able to spot the tendrils wrapping around his arms below the coat. Only Zen would have been observant enough, really - the others would have been too entranced by watching their leader fight.

And who could blame them? It wasn’t like he did it often, after all. Usually he sat back and let them do it for him, simply enjoying the sight of them crushing their opponents into the dust.

“What do you lot think?” He grinned at the gathering before him - the bastard’s gang and the droves of his own who had shown up right before the first punch was thrown. And it was a simple question - should he kill the bastard and make an example of him or let him live and learn not to fuck with him? His men knew how to answer him.

One by one, each of his men raised their hands in front of them… Thumbs down.

Death it was.

Oh, but how should he do it? Should he crush his head beneath his foot? Crush his ribs and use them to puncture his lungs, then leave him there choking to death on his own blood? There were so many options… So many things he could do.

Long before he could decide, someone spoke up.

“Don’t. Please.”

He looked up to see the man’s lieutenant was the one speaking to him. “Why shouldn’t I? This upstart has disrespected me for months.”

“If you let him live you’ll never hear from him again. Or any of us. We’ll all get out of your hair.”

“You love him.” Ryou deduced instead of considering what he’d said. “You’re in love with this… Bigot.”

His lieutenant flinched. “That’s not the point.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He relented. No reason to tease him for who he loved - he had a rather laughable love life, himself. But was his request reasonable? “Zen, what do you think?”

“Well, sir, his lieutenant has always been the one we’ve dealt with in the most reasonable situations…” Zen chose his words carefully. “He sticks to his word, that’s for sure. If it pleases you to let them go, you really would never see them again.”

He considered it. “... Perhaps we could come to a better agreement about this…” He stepped over the bastard’s body, approaching the lieutenant. “Maybe you and I could work out some sort of an… Arrangement?”

“What kind of arrangement did you have in mind?”

“Oh, a simple thing, really…”

* * *

 The West was all his. He had new troops. The bastard was out of his way for good…

Life could only scarcely be better for Ryou.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is choppy and probably _super_ anticlimactic but here it is.


	13. Reunion

“Are you sure about this, brother?” Ishizu pulled her shawl closer to her, eyes darting around.

Rishid did not reply out loud. He merely nodded his head and picked up their bags.

“But we have already checked so many other towns… What makes you think he will be here?”

“He always wanted to be where the excitement is.” Rishid grunted, “I have heard that a great many ‘exciting’ things are happening in Domino right now.”

Ishizu frowned. “But, brother…”

“Would you like to argue, sister, or would you like to find our brother?”

She gave a resigned sigh. “I would like to find our brother.”

“That’s what I thought.”

It was clear there would be no further discussion on the matter. Rishid shouldered one of her bags, checked his grip on one of his own, and marched right out of the airport. With another sigh - this one far more defeated -, Ishizu followed him out.

“What if he has changed his hairstyle and hair color?” She worried quietly to herself, though she knew Rishid could quite easily hear her. “Or he has gone into hiding somewhere?”

There was no reply to her worries, anymore. Rishid had heard all of it many, many times. He had reassured her many more. She doubted he was really as confident of their brother’s whereabouts as he pretended to be, now. Three months ago, when they’d begun their search anew, perhaps he had been, but after all the false leads… All the lookalikes…

She just wasn’t so sure anymore. How could _he_ be?

Fire nudged Gorbasch. “You see the two Egyptians, yeah?” Gorbasch nodded. “They look like they’re lookin’ for somebody. The girl’s holdin’ a picture.”

Gorbasch grinned. “Perhaps the boss could help with that…”

“Let’s talk to ‘em.”

Both of them hopped down off the short wall they’d been seated on. Sure, they were off-duty right now, but there was no reason not to get some people in to see the boss on a nice day like this. He’d be in a great mood and they obviously needed some help. And, hey, if it happened that they weren’t actually looking for anybody, Fire and Gorbasch could at least be decent human beings and help the poor guy carry their luggage.

They practically cornered the Egyptian visitors, both emulating the pleasant smile their boss had unknowingly taught them.

“Hello there.” Gorbasch, as usual, spoke for both of them. “Looking for something or someone, travelers?”

They examined the Bandits with guarded expressions before slowly nodding.

“How could you tell?” Ishizu asked, eventually, pulling her shawl closer to herself and attempting to cover up the glimmering gold necklace she wore.

“You learn to recognize the signs.” He chuckled. “We might be able to help you.”

“Why would you want to?” She asked suspiciously.

“Mostly because our boss likes it when we’re generous and helpful to travelers.” Gorbasch shrugged. “And he likes to know the new people coming into the city.”

“Who is your boss?” Rishid asked gruffly.

“Ah, the Bandit King.”

They had heard many things about the three kings of Domino City, recently. The three leaders of the biggest gangs in the area were some real big shots, from what they had heard. The Pharaoh was a businessman, though no one knew exactly who he was - there were rumors that he resembled the ancient Nameless Pharaoh, however, and that might have been the source of his name. The Phantom King was a complete enigma, to them and to everyone else, and on the rare occasions he was seen, he was always wearing a cloak that obscured his entire visage.

But the Bandit King? Oh, everyone knew he looked like the ancient Thief King. Everyone knew he _loved_ greeting travelers because he wasn’t exactly a native himself. Everyone knew how he dressed and how he acted, but no one could actually pick him out in public when he happened to slip on some casual clothing.

Of course, these two working for the Bandit King meant they were gang members. Ishizu wasn’t sure if she trusted them from that fact alone - they could very well be attempting to trick them in order to take anything they perceived as valuable.

“Now, now, madam, I can see the wheels turning in your head.” Gorbasch grinned. “You need not worry. The Bandit King would have our heads if we robbed travelers. We only take valuables from natives and travelers who have been here for a few years… And who have much more than a pretty gold necklace and earrings.”

She almost cursed when she realized they had definitely seen the necklace. She stopped herself, instead saying, “But why should we trust you? If what you say is true and you are gang members, you could be lying about why you wish to help.”

“You’re very right, madam.” His eyes seemed to twinkle. “But we’re your best bet to find the one you’re looking for.”

This was where Fire typically came into the conversation - the same was true this time around. “You could search the whole city by yourselves, or you could come with us to our boss, and we Bandits could look instead. There’s a lot more of us and we have connections that you don’t.”

Ishizu considered it, glancing to Rishid, who merely shrugged at her. She chewed on the inside of her lower lip.

Finally, she sighed. “Very well. Take us to the Bandit King.”

The Bandits grinned at her and turned to walk away. “Follow us!”

* * *

 The Bandit King really did bear a striking resemblance to the Thief King, Ishizu thought. He was shorter, skinnier, and paler, but the last was to be expected. The Thief King had been Egyptian, after all, and immediately upon the Bandit King opening his mouth Ishizu could tell he was English.

“Greetings. Please, do have a seat.”

His hair was longer than the Thief King’s, as well, she noted as she knelt down on one of the cushions in front of his throne. Rishid followed her lead, both of them bowing their heads. It seemed he took much better care of that long, white hair than the Thief King had, as well.

Their respect seemed to please the Brit, whose pleasant smile widened into a much more genuine grin.

“Fire and Gorbasch tell me that you two are looking for someone, yes?”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Ishizu thought it would be best to use high titles - he was a king, after all, and probably expected respect.

“Who, pray tell, might that be?”

“Malik Ishtar.” She said without hesitation.

“You’re in luck.” The Bandit King’s eyes narrowed despite the happy lilt. “I happen to know _exactly_ where Malik is.”

“Truly?” Rishid blinked at him.

“Truly.” He twirled a strand of his hair around a ringed finger, frowning slightly. “Though I must warn you that I can’t just _tell_ you where he is. I do not know who you are or why you are looking for Malik, and I would be greatly displeased if it happened that you were looking for him in order to harm him.”

There was a silent warning, there. A warning of, “If you want to hurt him, get out of my sight.”

“We would never dream of hurting him, your Majesty.” Ishizu assured him, clasping her hands in front of her. “It would be most disgraceful.”

His eyes narrowed again. “Who are you?”

But she shook her head at him. “Names have power, your Majesty. Surely you know that - we cannot tell just anyone who we are. It would be suicide, if the wrong person heard.”

He hummed. “True enough.” He finally unwound the strand of hair and puffed out his bottom lip slightly.

For a long moment, he was quiet and Ishizu was worried that maybe that had  been the wrong answer. Really, what harm could come of telling the Bandit King their names, she wondered? As long as they did nothing to displease him and they weren’t using his information to hurt Malik it really shouldn’t matter. She almost spoke up to change her statement, but decided against it.

Even if the Bandit King was trustworthy, who knew whose ears listened in on their conversation.

When he finally spoke again, she was incredibly relieved. The silence had been beginning to get unnerving. And it, paired with the distinctly Egyptian theme of the room they were in, had begun to drudge up memories that were better left buried.

“Very well.” The King said, straightening up a bit. “Why do you want to know where Malik is?”

She looked to Rishid. For a moment, they exchanged a silent conversation before he nodded his head. She turned her attention back to the Bandit King, bowed her head, and said, “Because he is our brother, your Majesty.”

The Bandit King blinked at her, eyes slowly widening a bit as his eyes flicked over she and her brother. He blinked again, slowly sitting back as he let the information sink in. Was it really possible, he wondered? Surely it was… Malik had once told him that he had siblings, and these two did look incredibly similar to the man…

Perhaps they were, he decided. He could quite easily check.

“Excuse me for a moment.” He stood. “I am going to check with him.” As he pulled his phone from his coat, he said, “I assure you, I in no way mean to offend you by not believing you, but just as you cannot tell just anyone your identities, I cannot just believe such an admission without distinctive proof.”

“I understand completely, your Majesty.”

“Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me for a moment…” He ducked behind the curtain near his throne, emerging into a smaller room. He flipped the phone open, pressing the button he’d designated Malik’s number too.

_“Hello?”_ It took the man four full rings to answer the phone. _“This had better be important, Ryou.”_

“I assure you, it is.” Ryou flipped his hair out of his face. “I have two Egyptian travelers here who are looking for you. They claim to be your siblings.”

Malik sucked in a breath. _“What are their names?”_

“They wouldn’t tell me. Said they couldn’t tell just anyone who they were.”

_“Fair enough… Is there a man and a woman?”_

“Yes.”

_“Is the woman wearing a gold necklace with the Eye of Horus design?”_

“Yes. And both of them are wearing large gold earrings and some very well executed kohl.”

Another breath. _“What has the man said to you?”_

“Very little.”

_“It sounds like that’s them.”_ Malik sighed. _“Any way you could send me a picture?”_

“I’ll do what I can.” He peeked through the curtain, seeing them talking quietly amongst themselves. He made sure they weren’t watching him and snapped a quick picture. “Got one. Here.”

He heard Malik’s phone buzz, which made him chuckle, though he wasn’t sure why.

Malik sounded like he was about to hyperventilate, once he’d opened the picture. _“That’s them.”_ He whispered. _“That’s them, Ryou.”_

“Would you like me to go ahead and tell them where to find you?”

_“I… Um…”_ Malik took a deep breath to calm himself. _“Yes. Tell them. I’m headed home now.”_

“Alright, honey. Should I escort them personally or let them wander a bit?”

_“If you could bring them here yourself that’d be great, Ryou. I think I’m gonna need to see someone familiar before I can calm down.”_

“Gotcha. Well, we’ll be on our way soon. I’ll try to keep it slow so you have time to get home and think.”

_“Thank you, Ryou.”_

“Don’t mention it.”

He let Malik hang up first, perfectly willing to stay on the line with him if he needed it. Usually Malik tried to be strong, but even he had to be weak sometimes. And why wouldn’t Ryou want to help him? They were friends, after all - wasn’t that what friends did for each other?

It was a strange place for his mind to go, considering the circumstances, but definitely not the strangest it had been to during business.

He stepped out from behind the curtain. “Alright. He’s confirmed… And I’ll be escorting you to him myself.”

“Oh, your Majesty, that’s really not necessary…”

“He’s asked me to, and I take family matters quite seriously regardless.” The Bandit King waved a hand. “Especially when it comes to Malik’s long lost siblings.”

“You seem to be very close to him…” Rishid noted.

“He’s a good friend of mine, yes.”

That made Ishizu laugh. “Trust our brother to be good friends with a gang leader, yes?”

“But of course. It is exciting, is it not?”

Yes, they were definitely Malik’s siblings if they knew about his typical thrill seeking attitude. Oh, it’d been a long time since Malik had grabbed him or Yugi, exclaiming that he wanted to do something ‘exciting’. Seemed being the Phantom King was exciting enough for him - or maybe he was just too tired to do anything ‘exciting’.

Then again, the last time they’d gone out and done something exciting together, it had ended in them robbing a convenience store with Joey and Tristan. That was _fun_ . Ryou had picked the locks, Malik had deactivated the alarms, and Joey and Tristan had carried most of the loot. They’d had snacks and sodas for _days_ afterwards. Ryou thought that he might have gained a couple pounds from that.

But that had been years ago. Before Bakura and the others had gone missing.

Ah, yes, that was probably why Malik no longer wanted to go out and do ‘exciting’ things with his friends. Marik wasn’t around to share the experience. Marik just wasn’t around. Period. And even Ryou had been able to see how dependant on the other that Malik had been.

“This might surprise you,” The Bandit King said as he led them out to his car. “But Malik hasn’t been actively seeking excitement for the past few years.”

“Maybe being around you is exciting enough.” Ishizu suggested.

“Maybe.” The Bandit King couldn’t help chuckling. “I’ve been told that I’m… Interesting to be around for long periods of time.”

Zen seemed to appear from nowhere, opening the door of the car for Ryou and his charges. He bowed to them.

“Ladies first,” The Bandit King insisted. Ishizu bowed her head gratefully and ducked into the car. He motioned for Rishid to follow her, turning to Zen. “Will you be driving us, my dear?”

“If you wish, sir. Where are you headed?”

“To the Phantom King’s residence.”

Zen nodded. “Very well, sir.”

He folded himself into the car as gracefully as he could, making himself comfortable next to his guests. He gave Rishid a smile, allowing his coat, as usual, to fall off of his shoulder. He did his best to hold in the cackle that rose in his throat when Rishid’s cheeks turned rosy and he averted his eyes. He was far more conservative than his brother, that was for sure. Perhaps a virgin?

Oh, that was funny.

He decided to spare the Egyptian the embarrassment, however, and didn’t bring it up. Instead, he looked to Ishizu, who seemed to be admiring him.

“Pardon me for staring,” She said, “I’m afraid I cannot help it.”

“It’s alright.” He assured her. “But what, pray tell, has captured your attention?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” She admitted, “But your jewelry is certainly intriguing. Did you have Malik’s input on it?”

He smiled. “Yes, actually. It was he and another who informed me that silver was more valuable in ancient Egypt - and I’m a sucker for ancient Egypt.”

“Have you ever considered wearing kohl?” She tilted her head slightly.

“I’ve thought about it. Malik offered to teach me but I’m afraid that ended in an argument due to my rather flippant attitude.” He snickered. “As have many other discussions.”

“Ah, it’s not your flippantness, I assure you.” Ishizu shook her head with a smile, “Malik is just argumentative.”

“If that isn’t the truth, madam, I don’t know what is.” He chuckled as the car finally came to a stop. “Ah. We’re here.”

Ishizu and Rishid almost seemed to start buzzing, turning to each other and speaking softly in rather excited Arabic. He caught one or two phrases, but for the most part they spoke too quickly for him to decipher it. He heard, “little brother” and, “will he recognize us?” along with a few other little things - he cursed his rather limited experience with Arabic. Maybe if he spoke it more often he’d be able to understand everything they were saying.

Zen came around to open the door right as Malik peeked out of his front window. Ryou met his eyes, giving a reassuring smile, and walked up the sidewalk to the front door without waiting for his guests. Malik would want to speak to him first - he’d want a little comfort. At least, he thought so.

Turned out, he was right.

Malik threw the front door open and hugged him, whispering in Arabic about how happy he was but how scared he was at the same time. He thanked him for bringing his siblings there, thanked him for coming up to the door first. When he pulled back, he asked him if he looked like he’d been crying.

“No. But you’d better gather yourself quickly, dear.”

Malik nodded. “‘Inna sawf.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I will.”

Ryou chuckled. “You didn’t need to translate, hon. I speak Arabic, remember?”

“Yes, but I try not to, remember?” Malik stuck his tongue out.

“There’s the Malik I know and loathe.” Ryou threw an arm over his shoulder and ruffled his platinum blonde hair.

“Oh shut it.” He grinned, though his expression faltered for a minute when he noticed Ishizu and Rishid approaching. “'Awh, aliha. 'Annaha haqqana lahum…”

“Yes, it’s really them.” Ryou gave his shoulders a gentle shake. “Want me to stick around, hon?”

Malik froze, for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “No, it’s alright. You can go.”

“Alright.” He gave another shake to his shoulders, then smiled and headed back to his car. “Have fun, dear!”

“I’ll try!” Malik called back shakily, and the last thing Ryou saw before he ducked into the car was Malik tackle-hugging Rishid.

He grinned.

The excited Arabic flowing out of Malik’s mouth was almost too much for Rishid and Ishizu to handle as they all threw their arms around each other and collapsed onto the steps in front of his house.

“I missed you.” Malik crooned, “I missed you guys so much!”

“We missed you as well, brother.” Ishizu buried her face in his hair. “Have you been here all along?”

“Yes, yes this is where I’ve been.”

After a while, they broke away and Malik invited them into his house, where they spent the next few hours swapping stories about the past seven years and drinking tea together.


	14. Nightmare Revisited

_It hurt._

_It hurt so much._

_Malik wondered if, maybe, he was dying. But, no, death would be far too easy for him. Death would be_ amazing _compared to this. This pain… This ripping and burning, this searing agony that set his back alight with fire._

_And there’s someone laughing, in the background. Someone laughing softly to themself while he lies there whimpering and biting back the urge to scream. He thinks it might be his father. How fucked up is that, he wonders, that his father is getting some twisted amusement out of hurting him._

He shook himself, and through the pain of the memory he managed to laugh at the thought. Nowadays he got the same kind of sadistic satisfaction from hurting people, he’d admit. Not from anyone he liked, usually - he winced at the thought of hurting Ryou past the point that was alright with the Bandit King. He couldn’t bring himself to pin the man down, tie him up, and trace a blade over his skin because he knew that, deep down, that would scare him. He knew that no matter how much Ryou acted like it was okay, he’d be terrified.

Or at least he thought he would be.

_“Stay awake, Malik,” His father murmured. “Do not fall asleep. You have to stay awake.”_

_He wasn’t sure why he needed to stay awake. Is it because he wouldn’t be in so much pain if he was asleep? Was it because his father wanted to listen to him whimper?_

_He supposed it was probably a mixture of both._

_“Don’t you fall out on me, boy. Your awakening will not be pleasant.”_

_He wasn’t sure how he managed to stay awake through the rest of it, but he would guess that it was probably fear at the thought of how his father would wake him up. Would he pour salt in the wounds? Trace over them with a scorching piece of metal?_

His thoughts brought a shudder to him even now.

Gods, why was he thinking about this? Usually he could push these memories to the back of his mind, bury them under memories of Marik’s rough touches and Ryou’s soft lips… But not tonight, it seemed. Tonight he was ravaged by memories of the cold. Of the dark. Of metal piercing the skin of his back.

He tried, for possibly the thousandth time, to shake the memories away. To replace them. To focus on something else.

He wasn’t sure if he was thankful for the turn they took.

_“Who the fuck are you?” Marik stared down at him where he lay, gasping for breath, on the ground. “And what the fuck are you doing out here?”_

_“M-malik,” He choked out. “M-my name is Malik…” He had to suck in a few more breaths before he could say, “I d-don’t know where I am.”_

_His lavender eyes seemed to soften a bit at that, lips forming into a neutral line instead of an irritated frown. “Where are you from?”_

_“The tomb…” Malik finally managed to calm himself a bit. “The tomb of Pharaoh Seto.”_

_“You poor thing.” Marik said immediately. “How did you…?”_

_“I… I just ran. My brother and sister came with me but… I l-lost them.”_

_“Hmph. How about you stay with me?”_

_Even as sheltered as he was, Malik knew lust when he saw it. “I… I r-really shouldn’t…”_

_“You’re certainly not wrong about that.” Marik grinned. “But what other choice do you have?”_

_He knew Marik was right._

_He didn’t learn his name until that night, right before he found himself full up with a thick, throbbing cock. Tears had pricked at his eyes, lower lip wobbling a bit, but he’d fought through it because he’d had worse._

_And, really, after the first few thrusts it didn’t feel so bad. It was kind of nice, honestly, and Marik_ was _moving slowly for him this time._

_By the end of it he was a whimpering mess who’d cum two or three times before Marik had finally finished. The older teen had been gracious enough to pull out of him before he spilt, thankfully, and to toss him a towel to clean himself with before he sauntered off to his tent and ducked inside. Malik had wiped himself down, done his best to clean his tunic off, and curled up on the sand near the fire._

_He woke to Marik nudging him with a toe and asking him if he had any other clothes._

_When he shook his head, Marik just snorted and threw a somewhat large tunic at him. He’d changed quickly, careful not to show him his back, and then they’d set off for the nearest town. It wasn’t until they were already in town that he learned what Marik was trying to do. He was trying to get the money to go to Japan to track down some guy he had some quarrel or another with._

_Malik really didn’t care, but sticking around Marik gave him a place to sleep and the feeling of being protected._

He bit his lip, now, reliving in earnest the feelings of fear and insecurity. He had been so scared of Marik seeing his scars. So insecure about his whole body just because of his back. He thought Marik would take one look at his scars, think he was ‘damaged’, and leave him stranded in the middle of the desert.

It hadn’t happened that way.

_“Little tomb keeper~!” Marik called._

_It was his ‘affectionate’ nickname for him. It drudged up more bad memories than he cared to admit, and certainly didn’t make him feel loved or wanted._

_And, unfortunately, at the moment he was in the middle of changing. “I’m in the bedroom, Marik!” He called, regardless, thinking he’d have ample time to pull his shirt over his head before Marik could open the door._

_He was wrong, and he knew he was wrong when he heard the intake of breath from the doorway. There was a rush of steps toward him that made him falter, midway through lifting the shirt. Calloused hands gripping just below the carvings in an almost angry way. “What are these meant to be, little tomb keeper?”_

_Malik was far too overwhelmed to respond to him, eyes welling up with tears at the memory of what they were and where they came from. He did_ try _to form an answer, but all that came out was a strangled sounding sob._

_That was the first time Marik ever held him. He sat down on the edge of the bed and tugged him into his lap, arms circling him and holding him close. He didn’t chide him for crying, didn’t try to make him stop. He just sat there, and when the sobbing dwindled to hiccups and somewhat erratic breathing, he asked, “Do they hurt?”_

_Malik relished the ability to be able to shake his head in reply._

_“Good.”_

_Malik didn’t know what he was expecting, after that, but whatever it was it didn’t happen. He would have guessed that a, “I’m the only one allowed to hurt you,” would follow the statement, or that maybe Marik would ask more questions. But he didn’t say anything else. He scarcely even moved, for a while._

_“Was…” Malik swallowed, throat sticky, “Was there something you wanted to tell me, Marik?”_

_“Hm? Oh. Yeah, actually.”_

_“What is it?” Malik wasn’t sure when he’d buried his face in Marik’s shoulder, but he lifted it now to look him in the eye._

_He was sure he looked terrible, with smudged, runny kohl and a bright red, runny nose. Probably puffy eyes, too. They certainly_ felt _puffy. Marik didn’t seem to care, though, and Malik didn’t see why he should either._

_“We’ve got enough money for two plane tickets to Domino City in Japan.”_

_Malik blinked._ Two _tickets? He wasn’t sure what to make of that. He’d been expecting Marik to get the money and ghost him. Just vanish._

_“What’s that face for, little tomb keeper? You didn’t think I’d leave my pretty pet in Egypt, did you?”_

_His cheeks burned. “I’m not pretty, first of all. Secondly, I’m not your pet.” He frowned at him, but looked away after a couple of seconds, “And thirdly… Yeah, actually, I did. What use do you really have for me once we get there?”_

_“This might sound crazy, my pretty pet,” Marik said, regardless of his statements, “but… Companionship, really. I’ve discovered that it’s quite nice to have someone around.”_

_He pouted. “Companionship? You just use me for sex.”_

_“Not all the time.” Marik argued. “But I guess my idea of companionship is probably twisted and wrong, anyway.”_

_“Probably…” Malik sighed, burying his head in the other’s shoulder again. It felt nice to be held…_

_“I gotta admit, though,” Marik said before he got fully situated, “That holding you like this is… Nice.”_

_His cheeks were burning again._

They were burning now, too, and a dopey smile played at his lips. Gods, he was like a schoolgirl with a crush even all these years later. The thought of Marik made him jittery. It set his nerves alight, buzzing with anticipation that would never be fulfilled if they just so happened to fail in their mission.

Oh, but they wouldn’t fail.

They’d come too far to fail, now. They’d worked far too hard on this plan, put far too much effort into executing it. Failure was no longer even an option. They succeeded or they died, as far as Malik was concerned.

He doubted that Yugi and Ryou thought the same way he did, but they’d all agree that failing would be… Unthinkable, this far along in their plan. After all, they were just waiting for Yugi to get a strong hold on the economy, now, and then they’d be able to take the next step. The most important step.

There was, however, a distinct ache in his chest at the moment.

He knew what it was. He knew what it meant. He was lonely and he wanted Marik’s body to comfort him, much as he enjoyed Ryou’s. He wanted to be pinned down and fucked until he _cried_ , but he could never be that vulnerable to Ryou. He could never even _tell_ Ryou he wanted that, let alone get him to do it without chickening out at the last second.

Still, he couldn’t say the idea wasn’t appealing…

Oh. That idea was even better.

His hand trailed down under the blanket as he let the image take form in his mind. Marik’s cock slamming into him with no mercy whatsoever, no consideration for whether or not he was in pain. And to muffle his moans… Oh, yes. His lips were wrapped around another cock that was all too familiar to him - long and pale and thicker than one would expect.

Each of Marik’s thrusts forced him down on Ryou’s length, and he was glad that his gag reflex was long since gone because otherwise he’d be choking.

Oh, how he wished it was real.

His hand sped ever so slightly as his fantasy turned toward a memory that he was (shamefully) rather fond of.

_There was no Ryou, now. Nothing to muffle his moans while his fingers twisted in the sheets and his face was pressed firmly into a pillow._

_It had been weeks since they’d done anything._

_Marik’s attempts to kill Yami had been entirely fruitless, so far. He was irritated, nerves riding higher than a kite. He knew a good way to kill stress, of course, but after Malik’s comment in Egypt about being used, he was far more wary of the activity._

_Oh, believe him, he wanted to. He_ **_always_ ** _wanted to. He just loved how Malik felt around his cock, how he’d whimper and whine and beg for him to finish because it was too much for him._

_But Malik had made the mistake of making some sort of snide comment about how bad he was at killing people._

_He’d been shoved onto the bed with no warning, after that. He was given no time to adjust to being horizontal, either. Marik’s hand closed around his throat and pushed down. He choked weakly, eyes wide and hands scrambling for a hold on Marik’s wrists to try and pull the hands away. Tears began to form very quickly, and Marik wasn’t ashamed, later, to admit that the sight made him hornier than he already was._

_“I could kill you right now. Easily.” He hissed. “A good twist of my hand and I break your neck. Close it too tightly and I crush your throat, leaving you to choke to death on your own blood while trying to suck in breaths that you can no longer take through your shattered windpipe.”_

_He could tell he’d scared the younger male, of course. It was hard_ not _to see the terror in his eyes. And Malik could tell that he could tell and it made him somewhat angry._

_To his credit, he did attempt to appear brave. “What good would I be to you dead? You can’t very well keep a corpse around to fuck on a whim.”_

_He could see Marik thinking about it. Considering his logic. “Not for very long.” The man agreed eventually. “I’d only get one or two rounds before your body broke.” Regardless, he gave a harsh squeeze._

_Malik had expected to be terrified by it. He was_ not _expecting himself to give a weak moan in response. He wasn’t expecting his back to arch up, eyes fluttering shut. He felt the tears leak out of the corner of his eyes, and even through the space between them he felt Marik grow harder. He felt almost disgusted by that._

_Almost._

_“You like that, huh, you little slut?”_

_“A-apparently.” Malik had figured out long before not to object to being called a slut._

_He’d pulled away, then, leaving Malik to open up his eyes for a moment. “Turn over.” He ordered._

_Malik obeyed, scooting up the bed a bit on instinct and winding his arms around a nearby pillow. A tug on his hip made him lift his lower half into the air. Marik yanked his pants down, and then Malik heard him undoing his own belt buckle. He already knew where this was going, but that only further cemented the thought._

_Or, at least, he had_ **_thought_ ** _he knew where it was going, until there was a sharp crack and the sting of leather against the skin of his ass. He gasped, bucking forward and turning his head to look at Marik. The taller was pulling back the belt again - a long strip of leather folded in half with the buckle meeting the end. Swinging._ Crack.

_Malik bucked again. “M-marik!” He protested weakly._

_“I’m not stopping until you’re crying.” He was informed gruffly right before there was another crack. Another sharp pain._

_Secretly, he loved the idea. He loved it when Marik made him cry from pleasure. When he made him beg for more. When he had him doing both before he was even inside of him._

_It only took about five more snaps of the makeshift whip against his backside for tears to bloom in his eyes again and a sob to wrack his body. “Marik-” He gasped out, “please, I can’t take any more of this-”_

_“Hm…” Marik paused, as if considering it. Then, suddenly, another crack. “Beg me.”_

_“P-please!”_

Malik wasn’t sure he’d last long enough to relive the memory in its entirety. His gut was beginning to tense, already.

For the sake of it, he decided to skip ahead a couple of minutes. He knew what happened, anyway.

_“Marik!” He cried out, back arching painfully while the other buried himself as far as he could in him._

_He didn’t fit all the way unless he forced it._

_And from the start his pace was quick, far too rough for most people to handle immediately after starting. He gave Malik no time to adjust to him. Barely let him get over the initial entrance, even. He just pounded into him like he was dying and the only way to stay alive was to do this._

_Malik didn’t mind, though._

_He wanted to be broken, shoved down into the mattress by thrusts until his voice was hoarse and the pillow was soaked with tears and drool, because_ oh _he couldn’t keep his mouth shut when Marik was in him. He’d tried many times but he’d never once succeeded. He didn’t mind that either._

_As usual, it lasted much longer than he expected at that pace._

_Sure, he came before Marik, ass clenching around his cock, balls tightening and hot, sticky seed splattering onto their sheets, but Marik had the stamina of a fucking_ god _._

_He didn’t stop, then. He kept going, riding out Malik’s orgasm and the only real change was in his vocalizations. He always got a little louder after Malik came… The first time. And he kept going, kept pounding into him, until he came a second time and then,_ finally _, Marik would cum as well._

_Whether or not he pulled out first depended on the day, really._

Malik was not too lost in his memories to realize he was getting incredibly close to the edge. He could feel his balls tightening, feel the precum leaking down the head. It was swept down over the rest of the shaft to make his strokes a little less difficult and with no less than seven more pumps, thin ropes of sticky cum spat out onto his chest.

He wasn’t sure when he’d kicked the blanket aside, or when he’d shoved his sleep pants down to his lower thighs, but he was certainly glad he’d remembered to. He hated having to clean up the aftermath of his fun, but it was much easier to do when it was only on his skin.

“Where the fuck…” He didn’t bother sitting up while he dug around awkwardly in his drawer. He knew there was a box of tissues in there _somewhere_.

When he finally found it, he hastily wiped off the cooling sludge on his chest with one of the tissues and tossed it into the trash. For good measure, he grabbed another one and made a very rushed and weak attempt to wipe off his now limp cock.

That done, he pulled his pants backup and nestled back under the blanket. Closing his eyes, he was greeted by darkness, if only for a moment.

_“Could you maybe, for once, I dunno…” Malik struggled for words, but lost none of the anger in his voice, “Treat me like a fucking person and not a human cum dumpster? Hm?” He threw his hands in the air. “I’m not your fucking sex toy, Marik! I’m done with this shit, okay? I’m getting my shit and going back to Egypt.”_

_Marik grabbed his wrist, and he was prepared for a physical response of some kind from the taller man, but all he got was, “You’re not going anywhere.”_

_“The hell I’m not. Let go of me.” He attempted to jerk his wrist free of the other’s grasp._

_“Malik, there’s nothing left for you there. You’ll die if you go back.”_

_Was Marik attempting to be reasonable? That would have been funny if Malik’s heart wasn’t beating in funny ways and if he wasn’t so damn angry he couldn’t see straight._

_“I don’t care. It’s better than being kept around for sex.” He was lying, of course. He loved being able to be with Marik, even if it was just because Marik wanted to fuck him. Dying was, however, better than being forced to live with these_ stupid _feelings he’d caught for him. He shouldn't be in love with the man who wanted nothing except his body._

_“When are you going to figure out that I’m not just keeping you around for sex?” Marik’s voice was exasperated, almost angry, as he released Malik’s wrist in favor of grabbing his shoulder and turning him forcefully. Lavender eyes met at the same moment his back met the wall. “If I was keeping you for sex, don’t you think I’d have picked up someone else by now? Kicked you to the curb?”_

_“Then what_ do _you want me for?” Malik tried to push him away. He was too close._

_“Didn’t I tell you before we left Egypt, Malik? Didn’t I tell you that I wanted your companionship and that I liked holding you?”_

_“What, so you want a fucking cuddle buddy with benefits?”_

_“That’s not how I would word it.” Marik seemed to hesitate._

_“Of course it isn’t. You never do word things in the simple way, do you?”_

_“I really don’t know how to word it, actually. I’m not sure ‘cuddle buddy with benefits’ actually describes it, my pretty pet.”_

_He groaned in response to that, ready to tell him to take that mysterious bullshit and shove it, but was cut off in a way he certainly hadn’t thought of._

_He sure didn’t complain, however, about the feeling of surprisingly soft lips against his. Nor did he complain when he was pressed closer to the wall and a tongue swept over his bottom lip. He granted the entrance it requested, opening his mouth a bit and sliding his own tongue against the intruding one. He shivered, moaning softly into the kiss while their tongues swirled around each other._

_He_ almost _complained when they parted, but found himself a little too drunk on the kiss to say anything._

_“I think…” Marik said softly, his eyes showing more emotion than Malik had ever seen before, “That I might be in love with you, Malik.”_

_Malik brought their lips back together in reply._

And he fell asleep in the present with a contented smile on his lips at the thought of being able to do that again one day soon.


	15. Conspiracy

It hadn’t been easy for Atem to drag himself out of bed on Saturday morning.

He was comfortable and warm and Yugi was curled up next to him with the most innocent expression Atem had seen on him in three years. Sure, he hadn’t talked to him at all in that time period, but he’d seen him around. Seen him when he was out and about with his lackeys. He was always frowning, then, always glaring at passerby. He never looked happy. Never seemed pleased to see anyone.

And if he wasn’t angry, he was completely neutral.

Regardless, he had detangled himself from Yugi, crawled out of that incredibly comfortable bed, and stretched. Yugi had stirred slightly, but hadn’t opened his eyes. He just rolled over and curled up tighter. Atem felt guilty for not waking him up, of course, but that didn’t stop him from scribbling a note and leaving the same way he’d come in on Thursday night.

He still wasn’t sure how Yugi had reacted, but he hadn’t had much time to stop and check his messages since right after he’d left. Viper had caught the trail of Pegasus, finally, so they’d been on their way to meet the man since Saturday morning.

Currently, it was Tuesday afternoon and he was beginning to realize why they’d been told Pegasus was difficult to get in contact with.

“Please tell me that’s his island.” He turned to Viper pleadingly.

The Bandit was looking distinctly green - had ever since they’d gotten on the boat. After a brief pause with his hand over his mouth, he nodded weakly. “It is. What a recluse.”

Atem snickered, brushing his fringe out of his face. “Indeed. You feeling alright?”

“No worse than I have the rest of the time on this infernal contraption.” Viper shrugged.

“Your face is starting to rival your hair.” Atem pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it is.” The man sighed, running a hand through the green locks. He was silent for a moment while his hand went to his lower lip and slowly twisted each of the four labret studs that sat below it. “Wish it wouldn’t just give me away like that.” He finally said with a sigh. “And I wish I’d worn my rings instead of the studs.”

“Why’s that?” Atem didn’t pretend to understand the appeal of sticking something through the skin below or above your lips, but he wasn’t one to judge.

“I’m used to ‘em. I tend to fuck with them less.” He paused to twist one of the studs again. “I always feel the need to move the studs for some reason.”

“Can’t help you there, buddy.” Atem gave a rather helpless shrug. “I don’t even know how to handle my pierced ears let alone anything else.”

“Your ears are pierced?” Viper blinked. “I never noticed.”

“Probably because I just wear studs most of the time.” He tucked some of his fringe behind his ear and tapped the stud. “They’re not exactly noticeable.”

There was a very brief laugh before Viper had to slap a hand over his mouth again as they sailed through a wave. Atem waited patiently to see if the other would finally lose his lunch, but Viper just stood _very_ still for a moment, swallowed hard, and lowered his hand. “Okay. I’m fine. And you’re right, they aren’t. Everybody’s got their ears pierced nowadays, after all.”

“No kidding.” Atem gave him a smile. “On the bright side, we’re getting close to the island.”

“Oh, yeah. Only two or three more nautical miles of bullshit.” Viper sighed. “I’m gonna go belowdecks and try to eat something. Hopefully we don’t hit any more waves.”

“Hopefully.” Atem agreed. “I’ll tell you when we land, alright?”

“Alright.”

While he watched the other meander toward the stairs, he wondered what Pegasus was going to be like. Would he be like the other millionaires he’d met in the past 11 or 12 years? Stuck up, snooty, and reclusive? Or would he be one of the rare, flashy ones who realized that their wealth wasn’t exactly permanent?

Only one way to find out, really.

For him, it was a relief to finally pull up to the docks. For Viper… Well, he doubted it. There was a grand lurching as they pulled astride the docks. As he was about to turn to head down the stairs, he saw green hair pop up. Viper looked _incredibly_ ragged. Atem almost felt the need to apologize personally for the waves having been so unruly today.

“Let’s… Disembark, shall we?” Viper stumbled toward the boarding ramp that the captain was diligently lowering for them.

“Alright.”

Waiting at the end of the pier was a man in a suit and shades. His expression was severe - a firm frown, an only slightly less firm downward incline to his eyebrows. Atem wondered how someone could press their lips so tightly together.

“Atem Sennen, I presume?” The man asked when they reached him.

“Yes.”

“Who’s your… Friend?”

Viper gave him a long-suffering look before turning to the man and simply saying, “Someone who just got off the boat because they needed to be on solid ground for a while.”

The man nodded. “Fair enough. Seasickness?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

He nodded again. “You may accompany us to the castle if you like. Pegasus is quite adamant that anyone who sets foot on the island be treated like a guest. Especially seasick ones.” The man sighed, then, and bowed his head. “I am Kemo. Please, follow me.”

Viper shot Atem a winning smile. It wasn’t as if he’d needed to say anything, but judging by that frown, Viper was pretty sure Kemo didn’t want him there. It probably had something to do with the green hair and piercings - a lot of people didn’t seem to like those. He doubted that Pegasus would be a fan of them, either.

Oh well. What did he care what others thought about him? If they had a negative opinion, they could shove it. He didn’t really care if they had a positive opinion, either, but he could at least stand to hear someone compliment him.

“Master Pegasus will meet you in a moment.” Kemo told Atem, then turned to Viper. “And I’ve received orders to escort you to the kitchen and get you a few peppermints to settle your stomach.”

Viper threw Atem a “What can you do?” look as Kemo walked off without another word. He scuttered off after him, then, leaving Atem standing in the middle of the ridiculously large dining room alone.

Somewhere, he heard a clock ticking away. He let himself get distracted, fall into a trance as he listened to the steady _tick. Tock. Tick. Tock._ in the background. He found himself lost in an imaginary world where Yami was still around and the world wasn’t going to shit.

“Well hello there, bounty hunter.” A new voice said with a chuckle.

This voice was snobbish, clearly someone who was full of themselves and very little else - sans, perhaps, pure bullshit. Atem hadn’t even turned to face the man, yet, and he already didn’t like him.

Typical.

“Hello.” He said as he turned, “Pegasus, I presume?”

“You presume correctly.” He smiled. “And don’t worry - you’ll find ample reason to dislike me, I’m sure.” He snickered, “Aside from just my voice.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What in the world gave you the idea that I dislike you for your voice?”

Pegasus’ smile morphed into a smirk as he tapped the side of his head. “I know these things, bounty hunter. I know them just as well as I know that your name is Atem and you are not who you say you are.”

Part of him felt panicky at that, but for the most part he was just confused. Not who he said he was? What kind of bullshit was that? He was Atem Sennen, bounty hunter, brother, and apparently prospective love interest for his missing brother’s lover.

“Oh, it’s no bullshit, Atem. You simply don’t remember what you’re hiding. Trauma tends to do that to people.”

“Whatever.” Atem shook his head. “If you know so much, then you know why I’m here, yeah?”

“To ask me about little Noa Kaiba, of course.”

“Well?”

“Well, what, bounty hunter? You think it’s going to be that easy?” He laughed. “Let’s just put it like this, boy - he’s not the only one where he is.”

“What…?” He scowled, “What’s that supposed to mean, Pegasus?”

Pegasus rolled his visible eye and turned to walk away, pulling something out of his suit and throwing it over his shoulder.

The Millennium Puzzle clattered to the floor in front of Atem, causing his throat to close up immediately. It couldn’t be - he hadn’t seen that in three years. He hadn’t seen it since Yami disappeared. It had still been around Yami’s neck back then.

That meant…

“Not all is as it seems in your life, bounty hunter.” Pegasus’ voice drew his eyes back to him.

He felt all the breath in his lungs leave him. Embedded in Pegasus’ eye socket, previously covered by his long silver hair, was the Millennium Eye. Oh, he knew all about that. No wonder Pegasus knew what he was thinking…

With that information, he managed to block him out.

Pegasus laughed. “You might ask little Yugi-boy what his _real_ plans are, bounty hunter. And while you’re at it, ask him who the Bandit and Phantom Kings are - he’s quite familiar with them.”

And with that, Pegasus was gone and Atem found himself picking up the Puzzle right before he was grabbed by the shoulder and somewhat roughly escorted back out of the castle. Viper was being carried next to him, boredly sucking on a peppermint.

“So what’d he say?” He asked once he’d been sat down next to the boat.

“... I know where my brother is. Kind of.” He sighed, voice small. “... He’s wherever Noa is.”

“Whoa, seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Hell, dude, let’s get back to the mainland, then. I’m sure they’re there somewhere. Is that… Pyramid thingy… His?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I can use it to track him, bro!”

“Awesome.”

Normally, Atem would have been excited by that, but he was still a little bit too much in shock. His brother was alive, possibly. Alive and probably stuck with a sick kid. And Pegasus was too much of a huge asshole to tell him where they were.

He’d probably have to play a Shadow Game with him to get the information he wanted.

Dammit. He’d thought he was done with Shadow Games after Marik and Bakura stopped attempting to murder Yami… He should have known better, probably, but that didn’t stop the irritation from bubbling up under the surface.

He _hated_ Shadow Magic.


	16. Let Me Be Good To You

“Yugi…” Atem had to pause to catch his breath. “What are you doing?”

He received only a hum in reply, which caused him to buck his hips slightly. He let his head fall back. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting when he’d walked into Yugi’s room today.

He guessed he should have known better.

After all, Yami had been gone for three years and Yugi was too loyal to have gotten with anyone else if there was even a fleeting chance of Yami still being alive.

Still, Atem was surprised when the first thing that happened when he arrived was Yugi kissing him and shoving him down onto the bed. He’d tried to protest, but no words would come. Yugi had undone his pants, gotten onto his knees, and, well…

“Fuck… Yugi…” He felt guilty, somewhere in his heart, for enjoying this. For just letting it happen. He should stop him. He should put his foot down and make it very clear to Yugi that this wasn’t going to happen… But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to because he was enjoying it and if Yami wasn’t around there was no reason he shouldn’t let himself enjoy Yugi for a little while, right? “You’re… Pretty good at this.”

Yugi blew a puff of air out of his nose at that. Atem was pretty sure his lips curved up a bit, for a second. Oh, did Yugi find that amusing?

He didn’t get the chance to be irritated by that, really, because his mind went in an entirely different direction a second later. Yugi slowly pulled off, placed a kiss on the head of his cock, and looked up at him. “Can we… Can we take this further? I wanna know what you’re okay with.”

Atem thought about it for a moment. “If you want, we can try.” He said, “Any preference…?”

Yugi gave a sheepish grin. “Well… I know most people are kinda okay with both, but I’m pretty much exclusively a bottom.”

“Alright. Get on the bed.”

The speed with which Yugi complied confirmed for him the theory that Yugi had remained at least mostly faithful to his brother over the past three years.

“Any requests?” He asked while he removed Yugi’s pants and discarded his own.

The younger man had already been shirtless when he arrived, so lord knew what exactly he’d been doing. Yugi had always been more than just “careful” with who saw him shirtless. Maybe he’d been midway through changing? Who knew.

Yugi’s face turned a cute shade of pink. “Only one.” He bit his lip and yet tried to smile.

Atem did away with his shirt before returning his attention to the blushing man before him. “What is it?” He asked while he got Yugi situated (on his hands and knees at the edge of the bed, of course).

He didn’t think Yugi’s face could get any redder from just one question, but it did.

Yugi glanced at him over his shoulder, then looked back at the sheets. “... Don’t be gentle. Please. I can’t take gentle after all this time.”

He was hesitant to comply, of course, because he didn’t want to hurt the man. But if Yugi didn’t want him to be gentle, there wasn’t much to be done. Yugi got what he wanted. Neither he nor Yami were particularly great at telling him no. All he had to do was ask and chances were they’d probably kill each other for him.

He took a second to think about how sad it was that this boy had them both wound so tightly around his finger…

… And then he pushed into him.

Yugi’s back arched, lips parting in a pleasantly surprised gasp. Atem didn’t ask him if he was sure, didn’t pause to check on him, because he was sure it would just irritate him. Instead, he began to thrust. He wasn’t rough about it, at first, moving only as fast as he could stand to for the first minute or so. Yugi compliantly went along with the less-than-rough motions, giving soft noises of encouragement.

He knew there was no way he’d get Atem to be rough right off the bat - or at least he’d assumed so. Yami had been hesitant to be rough with him at all. Ever. It was almost like he thought he’d break if he thrust too hard.

But right when he was about to complain, to tell Atem to stop fucking around, the older man adjusted his grip on his hips, changed his angle a bit, and began to thrust quite a bit faster.

“Mm…  _ Yes _ …” Yugi arched his back. This had been  _ exactly _ what he needed.

When he felt his release approaching, far too soon, of course, he whined softly. He didn’t want this to be over yet. He didn’t want Atem to stop. His fingers gripped the sheets like his life depended on it, arms quivering from holding himself up. It felt like his nerves were on fire. Every touch sent a jolt through him, from the soft massaging of Atem’s thumbs over the back of his hips to the steady thrusts of his cock into him.

And then he came and it left him seeing stars while he let his arms give out and buried his face in the sheets.

He whined again as Atem pulled out of him, dislodging his face from the sheets to look over his shoulder. “‘Tem…?”

“Flip over.”

He scrambled to obey. Atem was back inside him before he’d fully come down from the high and  _ oh _ that was nice. The older man immediately resumed his pace - Yugi was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven.

About an hour later, once they’d cleaned up from their shenanigans, Yugi was happily curled up to Atem on the couch in the living room. Well, ‘happily’ may not have been the right word. Contentedly? Comfortably? He wasn’t sure. He just knew he liked being curled up against Atem’s side and being held. It had been way too long…

“... I came here to ask you something.” Atem sighed.

“I know.” Yugi cringed at his immediate response. He shouldn’t have said that. Oh, well. He’d dug himself a hole, now, he might as well lay down in it. “I was kind of hoping you’d forget.”

“You were distracting me?”

“Kind of? Mostly I actually wanted to suck your dick but it was an awfully convenient way to distract you.”

He could tell he’d struck a nerve, there. Made Atem angry. Would he leave? He almost hoped he would - almost. If he left, the questions would go unasked and Yugi and the others could go about their business without having to worry about Atem sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

“... I’m still going to ask, you know.”

Oh, really? That was wonderful. At least he wasn’t leaving yet. Yugi sighed, regardless, “What is it?”

“What are your real plans, Yugi? What are you really hoping to accomplish by digging your claws into the crime world?”

Yugi cringed, “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.” He admitted.

“And while I’m at it, who exactly are the Bandit and Ghoul Kings? I’ve been told you know them quite well.”

He cringed again. “Dear, why did you have to ask the two - three, technically - questions that I don’t know how to answer?” He sighed and pouted slightly. “Look, honey, I’ll let you in on our plans soon, but I need time to figure out how to word everything.”

Atem went to interject, seeming unsatisfied with that answer, but Yugi put up a finger to indicate he needed to wait.

“And as for the other Kings… Well, they’d be very, very displeased if I told you who they are. They’re awfully secretive and I have to take it up with them first. If I told you who they are without their permission our whole scheme could come crashing down around us in less than a day.”

Still appearing unimpressed, Atem frowned. “And how long, exactly, do you think it’ll take you to figure out how to word your plan?” There was a harsh edge to his voice that he hadn’t meant to put there.

Feeling the irritation setting in, Yugi decided it would be best to end this conversation as quickly as possible. With that, he wiggled out of Atem’s grasp and got up. “If you’re going to be so pushy about it?” He raised a brow. He saw a bit of regret flash across the older’s face. “I might not even try.”

He stalked off to the bathroom, as his bedroom door had no lock and he wanted to lock Atem out of whatever room he went to. The bathroom had a rather large window, so it was his second-best bet, regardless. He shut the door in Atem’s face, as the man had followed close behind him, and turned the lock. The other clearly heard it click if his sigh was anything to go by.

“Daw’ qalil, really…” He leaned his head against the door. “This is incredibly childish.”

No response from the man who’d taken a seat on the edge of the bathtub.

“I’m sorry.” He really wasn’t, but it was worth a shot. All it got him was a huff. “Really, I am.”  _ Liar. _ “Please open the door.”

“Fuck off.”

_ Well at least he said something. _ “C’mon, I won’t ask anymore questions. Please?”

“Fuck. Off.”

Yugi couldn’t understand why he felt so irritated. Maybe it was because he was no longer used to anyone being able to so boldly ignore his authority. None of his men would ever dream of asking a question like that or letting their irritation at him show. Not even Ryou and Malik ever really tried to be quite so forceful with him. He was the Pharaoh, after all. Ryou and Malik may have been Kings as well, but him being Pharaoh meant he was essentially a god in comparison.

Pharaoh was the morning and the evening star, descendant of the gods and all that.

Oh, there went most of that irritation with one muffled snort. Just thinking about all the stupid nicknames the others had been able to pull out of their asses when they’d dubbed him the Pharaoh was enough to calm him down a bit.

Still, he wasn’t exactly pleased that someone was standing up to him, even if it was Atem.

“Daw’ qalil,” Atem sighed, “Please? I’ll shower you in all the love and affection you could possibly want.”

Tempting offer, Yugi had to admit.

He heard Atem mutter something in Arabic, sounding a bit exasperated. Then, softly, “I could break the lock off, you know.”

“But you won’t.” Yugi said matter-of-factly. It was more a challenge than anything.

Would he actually do it? Probably not. Did he want to? More than he cared to admit.

“What will it take to get you to open this door?”

“... You have to promise not to get mad.”

“'Aeaddak.” Atem said immediately. “I promise.”

Yugi got up slowly, regardless. Even if Atem made that promise, it was one that was easily broken by anyone who made it. You simply couldn’t keep yourself from being angry in some situations. He unlocked the door and peeked out, almost expecting to be wrenched out of the room by his wrist and dragged back to the living room. But he wasn’t. Atem waited patiently for him to step out before wrapping a gentle arm around him and leading him to the couch.

Yugi thought that he probably needed some serious therapy if he was imagining one of the sweetest people he knew being violent toward him.

Well, Yugi wasn’t sure if he’d actually classify Atem as “sweet”, most of the time, but he usually managed to act like he was when he was around Yugi. It was like he changed personality completely when they were together. Yugi had seen the violent side of him, once or twice, in moments that were frozen in time in his mind. An argument with Yami (one of the only times he’d ever heard Yami raise his voice), an altercation with a man who’d been picking on him, even a full-fledged fight with some lowlife thug who’d tried to beat him up.

Atem could be a very, very vindictive creature sometimes.

When they were safely curled back on the couch, Atem gave him a rather expectant look. Yugi, internally, wanted to slap him. He pushed that part of him down, because the Pharaoh didn’t need to deal with Atem. He did. He could take off that kingly mask around Atem… It was only a matter of convincing himself to.

“Well, I guess I should really start explaining from the beginning…”

Atem was quiet throughout his explanation. He listened intently to Yugi telling him about how Ryou had begun to change back when Bakura had first disappeared, how Malik had gotten just a little less adventurous, and how he, himself, had come to be the Pharaoh. He explained how their plot had began, skipping over the part where Atem had essentially abandoned him. They both knew when and how that had happened. In order to protect the identities of his fellow kings, he said that he’d been motivated to start this ludicrous plot by their suffering. He’d found allies willing to help him and they’d taken everything from there.

He told him about how the final part of this particular stage of the plan wasn’t far from being finished. How he almost had Kaiba Corp in his hands. Atem was mutely impressed by that, he could tell, especially once he informed him of Joey’s part in the plot. He still said nothing, of course, but he did give a nod of appreciation.

It took him nearly three hours to explain everything.

By then his throat was incredibly dry and his mouth felt rather cottony. Atem gave him a kiss on the cheek and got up, earning a noise of protest from him.

“I’m getting you a drink, daw’ qalil.” He chuckled. “I’ll be right back.”

He relaxed a bit at that. For a moment he’d been scared. Scared he would leave. He waited for him and happily accepted the glass of water he offered him. He downed half of it in one go, which got him another chuckle from the Egyptian as he settled down beside him again. An arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him close.

“So… Is that it?”

“Pretty much.” Yugi nodded, sighing in relief that he didn’t trip over either of the words. Hydration was nice. “I really can’t tell you the other Kings’ names until I talk to them about it, though. They’d have my head.”

“I can understand that one.” Atem didn’t seem pleased, though. “That said… I want to help you guys in any way that I can. I’m more than on board with getting my brother back by any means necessary. Even hostile takeover.”

Yugi smiled. “The best way to do that, right now, is to keep on the lookout for Noa.”

“Alright.” Atem pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“But you have to stop by and visit whenever you can. I get awful lonely without you around.”

“Alright.” Atem’s lips stretched up into an amused smile while he pulled Yugi closer. “For now… I’ve got the rest of the night. What do you want to do?”

“... Movie marathon?”

“Sounds good to me.”


	17. Friends On The Other Side

“They are making entirely too much progress.” Pegasus scowled. “Who let those little brats go on this long unchecked?”

“That would have been Gansley.” Said his dark master. “He is no longer with us, I have heard.”

“Taken down with ruthless efficiency by none other than one of the little brats he was supposed to be keeping in check.” Pegasus’ closest companion, a man with long blue hair, spoke this information boredly, as if he really had something better to be doing at the moment.

Knowing him, he probably did.

“Was he killed?” Their master asked.

“It’s hard to say,” Pegasus replied. “Ryou Bakura is unpredictable, at best, my lord. I do believe Gansley’s life hung on a very thin string.”

The man nodded, making a noise in the back of his throat. “No matter. He’s as good as dead come the end of this, regardless.”

“Of course, my lord.” Said the blue-haired one. “Everyone is.”

Well, Pegasus wasn’t sure that “man” was the correct word to use to describe his boss. Yes, he looked quite human at the moment, but he’d merely shoved his essence down the throat of some mortal vagabond or another and had Pegasus and his companion clean up the husk’s body and make him look like a successful businessman. It had been tough work, really, and Pegasus shuddered at the memory. All the viscera that had needed to be disposed of and hair that needed shaving…

“Pegasus, you are now in charge of seeing to it that these… children… Do not succeed.” His boss said, “Do not fail me.”

“When have I ever failed you before, my lord?”

That earned him a smirk. “See that you don’t now, yes? It’d be… Disappointing, to say the least.”

“Of course, sir.”

His boss got up and left the room, leaving he and his companion alone. Thin arms wrapped around his waist while he stared at the door and he let himself relax into the body behind him.

“He is quite agitated, lately.” His companion murmured, resting his head on his shoulder.

“So are you.” Pegasus pointed out.

The other hummed in acknowledgement, planting a kiss on his neck. Pegasus couldn’t help a slight smile. “You seem mostly unaffected by all this, even if you are a bit irate.”

“I have a lot of experience with the likes of these brats.” He shrugged, maneuvering himself around so he could face the man. “I used to be one of them.”

The other cracked a smile. “We all were, at one time, I believe.”

They pressed their foreheads together and stared at each other, Pegasus with his one uncovered eye and the other with his discolored ones. The other gently brushed the hair away from Pegasus’ face and caressed his cheek. Pegasus could see the blue-haired man’s attention had shifted to the Millennium Eye. Once, his interest in it had made Pegasus uncomfortable.

Now, of course, he was used to it. He still didn’t like the way his companion looked at it, but he could deal. He didn’t immediately feel completely uneasy about his entire body because of the attention to his eye, but he did still feel the need to cover it up when it was exposed around people he actually cared for at all.

“Dartz, dearest, you know how I feel about you staring at it.” He said gently.

“My apologies, love.” He let the hair fall back in place. “I simply find it intriguing, that’s all.”

Their moment, as usual, was cut short by Dartz’s lackeys.

“Boss!” Cried Alister as he burst into the room. “We’ve got a problem!”

“What is it?” Dartz sighed as he turned to look at him.

“Mai has gone missing.” Rafael said for him as he entered the room, far more collected. Alister nodded his affirmation when Dartz looked to him.

The blue-haired man sighed again, turning to Pegasus. “I’m afraid I will likely have to deal with this myself. I shall return, love.”

They shared a chaste kiss before Dartz left the room with Alister in tow. Rafael remained for a moment, giving Pegasus an unreadable look. “I am sorry that we continue to interfere.” He eventually said. “I insisted to Alister that we could look for Mai ourselves, but he just doesn’t know what to do without Dartz.”

“Neither do I, at times.” Pegasus sighed. “It is fine. We are very busy men, it only makes sense that we be interrupted by everything that’s given an opportunity to interrupt us.”

Rafael, who was typically quite stony in the face, cracked a smile at that. Then he bowed his head and left, closing the door behind him.

Pegasus sighed again. How in the world had he ended up in this situation? Working for a demon and in a dying relationship with a man…

Just seven years ago he’d been a free businessman married to the most gorgeous, loving woman he’d ever met. He had eyes for no one else. He was successful - riches growing past what his parents had left to him after their tragic accident. He was happy.  _ So _ happy.

He needn’t remind himself of what had happened to change that, to lead up to this, but he always did so regardless. He just never could stop himself from thinking back. From remembering the day he’d woken to find his darling Cyndia pale and barely breathing in bed next to him.

The sickness took her quicker than the car accident had taken his parents. She was gone within the hour.

His depression, his soul-searching that followed her death brought him face to face with his boss for the first time in a dark, gloomy tomb in Egypt. At the time, he’d been cloaked in shadows, a pure black silhouette against the dismally inky backdrop of the tomb’s walls. He’d dropped his torch in surprise, when the being had appeared. He’d dropped it and the unholy tendrils that curled toward him had snuffed it out post haste.

_ “This is not the wisest of places to get lost, mortal.” _

_ “I am not lost.” Said Pegasus, “I am searching for death.” _

_ “Then you have come to the right place, after all…” _

And the rest was history, really.

It felt like a hundred years, but it hadn’t been so long at all. And how melancholy did his life have to be, really, for seven years to feel like one hundred? How incredibly dull? The thought was somewhat new to him - as new as he and Dartz’s romantic relationship, really. The last year or so, his year with Dartz, had gone by much faster than the previous six. The days had dragged by, each second like an hour. It had been maddening.

But the first time he and Dartz had kissed, time resumed its normal flow. He felt his heart beat in his chest again for the first time since Cyndia’s own heart had ceased to beat. It was odd, he thought, how love worked.

He’d thought himself straight, seven years ago. He’d never considered the thought of knowing another man’s body the way he knew Cyndia’s, or of another man knowing his in that way. He was no longer sure what label to put himself under, as none seemed to fit him quite the way he felt it needed to. Bisexuality wasn’t quite right and pansexuality was far too broad a spectrum. Asexual he clearly was not, heterosexual was something he’d grown out of. He supposed that “demisexual” was the closest, by far.

It was a term he’d heard from a young employee. Intrigued, he’d asked them about it. They claimed that a demisexual was someone who didn’t develop sexual desires about a person until they knew them closely and had a strong bond with them. They’d also explained it’s companion, demiromantic, as someone who did not develop romantic feelings about a person until the same criteria were met.

It had taken him many years to fall in love with and lust after Cyndia and Dartz.

He sighed, yet again, and took a seat at the table. Nothing he could do, for the time being, except call Kemo and tell him to get someone out to watch the three kings.

For a moment, his mind turned toward the men that those kings were working to find. Those pitiful fools in a room in this very compound. He hadn’t gotten an update on them in quite some time - he wondered if Dartz and their boss had extracted their souls yet or if they had finally snapped and killed each other.

Finding out what had happened to them seemed like a rather worthwhile pastime, in his book. Far more exciting than sitting at a table and waiting for his lover or boss to return and give him affection or orders. He stood, placed a quick call to Kemo to relay his orders as he’d originally intended to, and left the room to find a grunt to wean the information he wanted out of.


	18. Temple of Secrets

Malik had never thought that it would be comforting to enter Valhalla after a day of staying at home and spending time with family, but he supposed he probably should have expected that a day like that would come eventually.

Much as he’d loved seeing Rishid and Ishizu again, interacting them was almost physically taxing. He’d spent so long putting up walls and projecting this facade of being a force not to be reckoned with that letting those walls crumble and turning off the projector was a real pain. It was far easier to build up and turn it on, really.

His relief at entering the place was soon replaced by something akin to… Was it disgust? No. No, not disgust. Surprise, he supposed.

Yes. Surprise seemed appropriate.

After all, it wasn’t every day he walked into Valhalla to see Yugi being pinned against his throne and mercilessly fucked by a certain white-haired Bandit King. Of course, his initial thought was, “Yami and Atem will be pissed if they find out”, followed by, “Damn, I tend to forget Ryou only bottoms if he wants to.”

Outwardly, he pretended to ignore them and flopped onto his chaise as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his arrival had changed nothing except that Yugi was now hiding his face in the upholstery and Ryou was smirking broadly. He got out his phone, opened a game at random, and spent the next few minutes working his way mindlessly through the levels. It wasn’t like he really had anything better to be doing with his time, after all - not until those two got done with their rather untimely rendezvous.

What had they even called him for, again?

Oh yeah. They wanted to talk about the Millennium Puzzle. Wanted to talk about the Millennium Puzzle and wean information about the other Millennium Items out of him. He wasn’t sure, yet, how much information he actually intended to give them. How much did he trust them, really?

He almost snorted, knowing that the truth of the matter was that he didn’t, really. He ‘trusted’ them with his life, yes, but trusting them to keep him alive during a confrontation was very different than trusting them with a life-altering secret. He’d carried it around with him for seven years and never told a soul, but could they do the same? Would they?

The only way to find out for sure would be to test them.

But how to… Oh. Of course. He could mind control them into telling him their deepest, darkest secrets - or simply ask them to. For the sake of learning the secret of the Millennium Items, they would have to tell him their greatest secret. It was perfect. If they really wanted the knowledge, they’d tell him… And then he’d have blackmail.

He was a terrible person, but he was alright with that knowledge.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by one of his comrades clearing their throat loudly. He flicked his eyes over toward the sound, seeing Ryou lounging on his cushion and Yugi fixing his suit with a bright blush on his face.

“Sorry you had to see that.” Yugi muttered. “We weren’t expecting you to show up for another few minutes.”

“We thought you might have breakfast with your siblings, for some reason.” Ryou raised a brow.

“Talking to them is emotionally draining, at the moment.” Malik shrugged. “And I’ve certainly seen worse things. Any particular reason why…?”

“Ryou was horny.” Yugi sighed as he sat down, shifting with a wince. “And I’m too submissive and sex starved to say no.”

“Didn’t you and Atem fuck just yesterday?”

“Yeah, and it was awesome, don’t get me wrong, but one time doesn’t make up for three years of the occasional quickie at my office or in the Thieves’ Den and nothing else.”

Malik thought about it, then shrugged again. “I suppose you’re right. Ryou’s great in bed, but he’s not exactly Marik. Or Yami, right?”

“Right.” Yugi replied immediately before blinking. “Wait a second…”

“Yes.” Ryou snickered, “We’ve been fucking. The whole time, pretty much.”

“How are you still horny?” The darker haired man looked almost horrified. “Me, Zen, Malik, and whoever else…”

“Hey,” The Bandit King waved his index finger at him. “I’ve only fucked Zen twice in the past three years, and I’ve barely fucked you ten times.” Then he snickered again, “As for how I’m still horny? I dunno. Maybe I’m just hypersexual.”

Yugi hummed, murmuring, “Maybe,” before turning to Malik. “You know what you’re here for, right? I can’t recall if I told you.”

For a moment, Malik was concerned. He furrowed his brows. “But you barely called me an hour ago, Yugi.”

Yugi shrugged. “My short-term memory is terrible. Can we move on, now?”

“I suppose. But yes, I know why I’m here.” The Egyptian sat up a bit. “You want to know what I know about the Millennium Items.”

“Yep.”

They all paused for a moment as a young man made his way between them, depositing drinks on the tables next to their respective ‘thrones’. He bowed to them, when he was done, and retreated back the way he’d came.

“You know it isn’t just as simple as you asking and me telling, right?”

“Of course not.” The Pharaoh groaned quietly. “Why would it be that simple?”

He ignored him, for the most part, continuing as he’d originally intended. “There’s a lot riding on their nature being kept secret. If just anyone could ask a Tomb Keeper for the information and get it, we’d have a war on our hands.”

“We already have one.” Ryou quirked an eyebrow, sipping his tea. “I suppose we really don’t need a second one.”

Malik frowned. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“What do we have to do to get the information, then?” As usual, Yugi got them back on track.

“The Millennium Items are my deepest, darkest secret.” The Egyptian said carefully, “And that of my entire family.” He rubbed his chin. “An eye for an eye.”

They stared at him for a minute. He wasn’t sure if they were trying to process what he’d said, or if they were trying to understand what it meant. Finally, Ryou nodded, murmuring something about that being fair. Yugi merely sighed.

“Our deepest secret for yours, eh?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, Ryou, would you like to go first?” Yugi looked to the Brit. “I have to really consider what qualifies as my ‘deepest, darkest secret’.”

Ryou set his teacup down and chewed on the inside of his bottom lip. “Really, Malik, I think you already know all of mine.” He heaved a sigh. “Maybe not in words, but you know the emotions.”

Damn. Malik had forgotten about that. “You’re sure I know all of them, though?”

“... No. But I’d rather not tell the few you don’t. They’re… Embarrassing, to say the least.”

The tomb keeper levelled an unimpressed look at him. He sighed and twirled a piece of his hair around his finger, casting his eyes downward to avoid the expression on Malik’s face. Did he really want Malik to know any of that? The answer was pretty easy -  _ fuck no _ . Did he have a choice in the matter if he wanted to know anything about the Millennium Items? Not unless he wanted to ask Ishizu, and she’d probably have him do something even more embarrassing before she told him.

He sighed. “Fine, fine. Just… Give me a moment to pick my poison, yeah?”

“I have all the time in the world, Ryou.” Malik leaned back,trying very hard to conceal his smirk. “Please feel free to use it.”

_ I always kinda wanted to fuck Marik. _ Ryou knew that Malik didn’t know about  _ that _ … But was it a good idea to say it?  _ Bakura technically had legal custody of me until I was 18. _ He shuddered. No, that one was definitely out. They didn’t need to know  _ that _ . That was between him and Bakura.  _ I’m an orphan and that’s why you’ve never met my parents. _ Uh, no. Better they believed whatever story they currently had in their heads. They didn’t need to know about the car crash or the gun. That was deeply personal and led right back to the thing about Bakura having custody of him.  _ I had a twin sister _ . Nope.  _ I was crazy before Bakura left but his disappearance made me snap completely. _ Uh… Yeah, no.

Each secret that came to mind was more personal and hard to word than the last. He knew he was supposed to be telling Malik his deepest secret, but his deepest secret was currently something along the lines of  _ You two are the only things keeping me from going on a mass-murdering rampage. _ They… Really didn’t need to know that. They might encourage him to do it.

Not a good idea.

And then he remembered something, all of a sudden. It just hit him entirely out of the blue.

He currently had ownership of the Millennium Ring and the Millennium Rod.

He’d forgotten about them, really - they were stashed away with most of his riches in a secret room in his house. Bakura had told him they what they were, before he disappeared. Said something about them having “unspeakable power”. Ryou hadn’t put much thought into them since then, past the occasional “Oh, I remember this.” when he was going through his treasures and came across them.

When he opened his mouth, finally, Malik raised his eyebrows in surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected Ryou to think of anything just yet.

“I dunno if it qualifies as my ‘darkest secret’, but I do currently have two of the Items stored away in my treasure room at my house.” He went back to twisting the piece of hair around his finger. “I’d forgotten about them - Bakura told me it was best I didn’t ever use them so I just kind of left them in there.”

Malik blinked. “You’ve… You’ve avoided the temptation of using them for the past three years? You  _ forgot _ you had them? Because  _ Bakura _ told you you shouldn’t use them?”

“... That’s pretty much the long and short of it, yeah.” Ryou didn’t really understand why Malik seemed so perplexed by the idea. “I don’t even know what they do, just that they’re powerful.” He shrugged. “What’s the use in trying to use something if you don’t know what it does or how to use it in the first place?”

“I guess you have a point there, but haven’t you ever been tempted?”

“Countless times.” He shrugged again. “But it’s impractical to try.”

Malik slowly nodded. “... I’ll accept that as a secret.” He informed him. “Since they, themselves, are clearly a secret. No one else knows you have them?”

“No one but you two and Bakura. Maybe the little servant boy, too, if he was listening.”

They glanced at the room he’d retreated into, and, as if he could see them looking, the servant boy squeaked out a barely-there, “I didn’t hear nothin’!”

Ryou bit back an amused smile. “See that you stick to that story.”

“Yessir!”

“Cute kid.” Ryou observed as he turned back to Malik. “Is he one of yours?”

Malik shook his head. “One of Yugi’s.”

“Sage.” The Pharaoh supplied absently.

“Thought of anything yet, Yugi?”

He sighed and shook his head. “I can’t think of jack shit.”

“Do you just not keep secrets?” Ryou teased.

“I keep plenty. Problem is none of them are exactly personal - most of them are work-related.”

“Surely you’ve got  _ one  _ personal secret.”

“... I once lost a bet with Atem and had to wear lingerie under all my clothes for a month.” He shrugged. “But that’s about it. I’m a pretty open person.”

Malik pursed his lips, making Yugi sigh again.

“... Fine. Fine.” He averted his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “The only other one is that I really,  _ really _ like it when someone speaks to me in Arabic. It just… Makes me really happy and I dunno why.” He spoke in a rush, face heating. “There. That’s it. That’s the best I’ve got.”

Malik had to bite back a laugh. “ _ That’s _ your darkest secret?”

“My darkest personal secret.” He stuck his tongue out at him. “I told you, everything else is work-related.”

“Anybody else know about that?”

“Just Yami and you guys.” Yugi picked at a scab on his wrist. “Can we move past this now? You have no idea how embarrassing this is for me.”

“Alright,” Malik relented, in part because Yugi was the Pharaoh (whether it was just a title or not), and in part because, much as he loved teasing and tormenting, he wasn’t just going to shit all over Yugi’s happiness. “We’ll have to make sure no one is listening in on this.” He glanced toward the other room. “Unless we want Sage to know?”

“I can leave!” The young man popped his head out. “I don’t want to be a liability to you, m’lords.”

“Just… Plug your ears. Listen to music.” Yugi waved a hand. “Pretend you can’t hear us.”

Sage’s eyes lit up, though at which suggestion, Malik wasn’t sure. He popped back into his room and there was a brief shuffling noise before everything went quiet. Then a click. Quiet music floated out of the room.

“Why not just have him leave?” Ryou raised a brow.

“He practically lives in that room.” Yugi shrugged. “I’m still too nice to want to kick him out.”

“Fair enough.” Ryou turned to Malik. “So…?”

Malik sighed, but nodded. “Alright. Get cozy - this is a long story.” He tried to force a smile. “And it’s got visuals.”

He shrugged off his cloak, then, and pulled his shirt over his head, turning to show them his back. Ryou had seen those carvings almost as many times as Marik had - they were entirely new to Yugi. The sharp gasp that escaped his mouth when his eyes landed upon them was testement enough to this fact.

Ignoring him, Malik began to tell them the story.

“3,000 years ago, the Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen’s advisors convinced him to let them create the Millennium Items…”

As he explained their origins, explained the intricate Shadow Magic they held, the souls sacrificed for their power, Ryou finally felt the images on the other man’s back connecting. They began to make sense. Each stroke and intricate pattern had a meaning, once you knew the story. It was incredible, really, but (not for the first time) he wondered how much it had to have hurt. He could barely imagine going through something like that…

And coming from a man who tended to do arguably worse things to himself at times, that was saying something.

When Malik finally finished speaking, he was very quick to turn his back toward the chaise and pull his shirt back over his head. His heart was pounding in his chest, though he did seem calm, outwardly.

He wondered if he’d ever get over the anxiety that showing his scars brought.

It wasn’t likely.

He gave his companions ample time to let the story sink in before saying, “So, you can probably see why their nature is a closely guarded secret…”

Yugi and Ryou merely nodded in agreement. Why did their silence make him so uncomfortable? And why were they even being silent?

“Nothing to say?” He tried not to seem nervous about it.

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around the supernatural aspects of it.” Yugi leaned back in his throne. “You mentioned a god of evil?” He shook his head. “That’s just… A little much for me.”

Malik relaxed and chuckled. “Hard to believe in gods, eh?”

“Sometimes. What was his name?”

Malik only shrugged. “I was never told. Names have power, you know.”

“Zorc Necrophades.” Ryou informed them. At the incredulous looks he received, he continued, “I’m an avid user of shadow magic, he’s the literal  _ creator _ of it. Any self-respecting mage knows their patron god’s name, whether they actually serve them or not.”

They continued to stare at him, which made him somewhat uncomfortable. He sipped his tea, which, by now, was getting quite cold. He tried not to gag - herbal tea wasn’t meant to be consumed cold. It was meant to be consumed piping hot and for the most part unsweetened. He’d have to ask Sage to get him a new cup…

God, why were they staring like that?

“What? Is there something on my face?”

“You have a shadow wrapping around your arm.” Malik informed him. “It looks like a hand.”

He glanced down at his bicep, and, sure enough, there was a distinctly hand-shaped shadowy appendage curling its slender fingers around it. He sat the teacup down calmly and swatted the hand with some force. It recoiled immediately and dissipated into nothingness. Had it been attached to something, he probably would’ve gotten a dirty look or an offended scoff.

“Does that happen a lot?” Yugi asked, clearly hesitant.

“From time to time. Usually it’s just tendrils.” He tossed his head to move the hair out of his face. “Is there anything else we need to do, by the way? I feel the distinct need to leave for a while and hide my Items in a safer place. Maybe give one of them to one of you for safekeeping.”

“Safest place is on your person,” Malik sighed. “What ones do you even have?”

“The Ring and the Rod.”

Malik’s eyes widened. “So  _ that’s _ where the Rod went. Marik stole it from me when we first met and then he claimed it was stolen from him…”

“Bakura must have taken it.” Ryou gave the weakest hints of an amused smile. “Would you like it back?”

“Yes.” The Phantom King replied - too quickly. He cursed internally.

“Alright. Would you two be so kind as to accompany me to my house? I’d like to have company today.”

“Sure.” The Pharaoh agreed without a second thought.

Malik merely nodded.


	19. Meandering

Joey still wasn’t exactly used to having the Kaiba Mansion all to himself.

Sure, Seto would leave him to take care of it on days when he would be out for meetings all day and Mokuba was at school, but it still didn’t feel right to him.  Granted, for about three months of it, he’d been worried he’d be found out somehow. He’d spent a lot of his time holed up in the game room going through his deck, those three months.

He sighed, now, wondering if he should get up to the same old thing today while he waited for Seto to get back from his meeting with some investor or another.

He really didn’t feel like it, to be honest. He was starting to get very tired of sitting around for hours on end coming up with strategy after strategy that would never actually be used in a duel. Nobody really played Duel Monsters anymore, after all. It was pretty much just him, Seto, and Yugi at this point.

Maybe Ryou and Malik, too.

He didn’t know.

When he did finally clamber out of he and Seto’s bed an hour later, he still didn’t have the faintest idea of what he wanted to do for the day. His stomach growled loudly, so his first order of business was food. There - he had a goal.

Off to the kitchen he meandered, though he wasn’t sure what he wanted to eat.  _ Lord _ , he murmured internally,  _ when did I get so damn indecisive? _ Eventually he settled on grabbing a bowl and pouring himself some cereal. He hoped Mokuba didn’t mind.

Not that Mokuba would say much about it even if he  _ did  _ mind, but still - why piss off the future in-law?

He almost dropped the milk when the thought registered. That hadn’t even been intentional. He hadn’t meant to think of Mokuba like that. As his future in-law. That was… What made him think Seto would ever want to marry him, anyway? He guessed it was just wishful thinking.

_ Ew. _ He thought.  _ I’m going soft. Thinking about marriage and shit. What next - we get a dog? Adopt kids? _

He finished pouring the milk before stowing it back in the fridge. But he couldn’t stop thinking about that -  _ future in-law _ . Seto  _ marrying _ him. Even the thought of adopting a dog or a kid with Seto made him sort of giddy. But recognizing the giddiness for what it was made him wish that he didn’t feel like that. He kind of wished it would make him feel sick, like it used to.

Yeah. He hadn’t quite come to terms with actually having feelings for Seto, yet.

He’d have to work on that at some point.

For the moment, he busied himself with eating his cereal. No use in wasting it… And he was being spurred on by the incessant grumblings of his stomach, anyway. It wouldn’t be good for him to ignore his bodily needs too often. Seto would notice. He’d chide him. And he’d feel like a dumb mutt who wasn’t even smart enough to take care of himself.

He didn’t feel like going down that road again. He’d spent plenty of time walking down it while he was in high school.

He shuddered at the memory. Those weren’t fun times for him at all. All the duels and contests and the constant insults from friend and foe alike had really done a number on him. Of course he’d known that his friends didn’t mean any harm, but that didn’t mean the jibes didn’t hurt. But, at the very least, Yugi had always known when he was getting upset about it and when he was just getting spurred on by it. He knew the difference between Joey getting angry about a jibe and feeling driven to prove someone’s jibe wrong.

Sometimes it seemed like he was the only one.

And, at first, he probably was, because it took a long time for Yami to pick up on it and start carefully wording his occasional insults so that they came out as challenges or motivation.

To be honest, Joey kind of missed that. At least with Yami around challenging him he actually had a purpose in life. He had goals to achieve, a life to live. Now? Yeah, not so much. He’d accomplished all that shit back then and mostly he just lived from day to day. The only goal he currently had in mind was to find Yami and the others, really.

After that, his life was essentially a moot point and he really didn’t like thinking about that. Maybe, before they found Yami, Seto could find him some other purpose in life. That would probably make him feel better. Or maybe it wouldn’t.

He wasn’t sure - he just knew he was probably getting too old to be eating Lucky Charms. Was that stopping him? Nope.

Of course, by the time he came to that conclusion he was almost completely done eating and he found himself lacking in anything else to do for the day. He supposed he could just go lay back down and wait for Seto to get home, but that was about as appealing as sticking a needle through his eye. He laid around enough as it was. No need for another day of doing that.

Wait.

Didn’t the mansion have a little workout room tucked away somewhere? He could have sworn Seto had told him about one. Shame that he couldn’t remember if Seto had told him where it was. Oh, well. He’d find it eventually. In the meantime he could finish off his milk and wander around until he found it. That sounded like an adventure.

Oh, look at that. He had a goal again.

He was getting pretty good at this. And it was about damn time for that, too - he was 23, for fuck’s sake. He snickered, washed his bowl out of habit rather than a desire to not make the maids work too hard, and made his way out of the room. He was about halfway down the hall when he remembered that he’d left the light on. He cursed and jogged back to turn it off, and then he was on his way again.

He made sure to take it slow, checking each room he didn’t already know the identity of. He made sure to steer clear of Mokuba’s room and office, and especially Seto’s office.

Lord knew there was nothing of any interest to him in there.

Seto was likely working on some new computer gaming programs, so his office would be littered with notes and random calculations. Definitely not Joey’s forte - he was more into the actual testing of those games. And Mokuba? His room was all well and good, but Joey respected the young man’s privacy and wouldn’t go in there without permission. And his office was currently covered in motivational posters and the shelves were filled to the brim with books related to the classes he was taking and the tests he was studying for.

Yeah. He’d been out of high school for four years - he didn’t need any of that at the moment.

He’d wager it took him about an hour to finally find their little workout room, and about a hundred doors. He had to admit… He was impressed. They had everything he could need right here - he’d have to thank Seto for mentioning it was even here.

He found himself on one of the treadmills, starting off at a brisk pace. It felt nice to give his legs a bit of a workout. He began to plan his workout in his head, then, making a mental list of what he should do, when, and for how long.

_ Seto would probably be surprised that I actually have a logical thinking process and it’s not all just a jumbled mess of impulses. _ It still felt kind of wrong to refer to the man by his first name in his head, for some reason. It was probably just because he’d been calling him “Kaiba” since they’d met in grade school and he’d only been calling him “Seto” for a few months. Training himself to call him “Seto” out loud had been hard enough, to begin with, but coupled with now having to adjust to calling him that when he wasn’t speaking was… Well, it wasn’t fun.

He shook his head, mentally adjusted his plan, and upped the speed on the treadmill. Why was he like this?

Why couldn’t he just stop thinking for a while?

He upped the speed again, adjusted his plan to compensate. Maybe he should just run and not do anything else. He tended to lose himself when he was running. Maybe he could tucker himself out and give himself a good reason to wander back into bed. Yeah. Just running sounded like a good idea for the day. He could put that full workout plan into action the next time he had a free day. For now, he was going to make his legs go numb and  his lungs burn.

He had almost achieved that goal when his phone dinged in his pocket. He dug it out and checked the notification.

_ Where are you, babe? -S _

He wasn’t sure why the text made him smile.  _ Workout room. Why? -J _

_ I’m home. -S _

He wasn’t sure why that one made him smile, either. What was  _ wrong _ with him today? He must be losing his edge…

Oh well.

He cut the power to the treadmill and hopped off, stretching. He was in better shape than he’d thought - his legs weren’t even getting noodly yet. That was good, right?

The first thing Seto did when they met up in the foyer was pull him close and give him a kiss. He wasn’t sure if his heart was still recovering from the workout or if it actually sped up at the touches. “Ew, baby, I’m soaked in sweat, you don’t wanna hug me right now.”

Seto laughed. “I don’t care, puppy.” He gave him a sweet smile, “Shower?”

“... Yeah.” Joey tried not to look too incredibly in love.

No one would ever get him to admit to how happy that nickname was starting to make him. Or how giddy he got about doing dumb romantic things with Seto.  _ No one _ . He probably wouldn’t even tell Seto, because Seto  _ especially _ didn’t need to know how sappy he was getting and how much his bravado was starting to die off. That was too embarrassing.

Granted, if Seto asked nicely he just might admit it.

Dammit, he really was going soft for this asshole. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t exactly hate the idea, either. In fact, the thought of going soft for him didn’t seem quite as unappealing as it had just a few days before… Funny how these things worked. Maybe one day he’d just be a big old sap with Seto and learn how to still be a badass at the same time.

Seriously, if Ryou could manage to be intimidating while looking like a fucking twig, he could look intimidating while he was wrapped up in Seto’s arms. There was no way he couldn’t. He just… Had to figure out how. Maybe he could use his size and Seto’s wealth to intimidate them. Throw out that he was a total street rat and he’d still somehow managed to make Seto like him.

That was a scary thought in and of itself, really. They’d probably think he gave the poor guy Stockholm Syndrome.

It almost made him snort.


	20. Gifts

With the knowledge of the true nature of the Millennium Items still fresh in his mind, Ryou retrieved his from his treasure room in the company of Malik and Yugi. He knew neither of them was paying much attention to the Items’ location - they were far too busy staring in astonished silence at the sheer amount of material possessions that littered the room.

He couldn’t say he blamed them.

For someone as rich as he was, he certainly lived as if he was still a struggling high school student. His house, large and majestic as it was, was by no means perfect and in most rooms there were no signs of life at all. The house was far too big for him, really, but as the Bandit King he knew what was expected of him. Not to mention - all those empty rooms had once housed his Bandits.

He lived, most days, off of ramen and tea rather than the expensive meals he knew Yugi and Seto Kaiba indulged themselves in. They’d probably think him insane if they knew that, of course, so he went out of his way to make it seem he was eating well and eating expensively.

He shook the thoughts away and shoved the Millennium Rod into Malik’s hand while he threw the thin rope on the Ring around his neck. He had no need for the Rod, nor did he have any need for the ridiculous thoughts of material wealth and his weight. Yet those thoughts plagued him still.

His action, of course, snapped Malik out of his stupor, and he, in turn, snapped Yugi out of his.

“You stole all that?” Yugi asked, tone clearly disbelieving.

“At some time or another… Yes.”

Somewhere at the back of his mind, Yugi’s morals nagged at him that it was wrong. He kicked that part of himself. Hard. “That’s… Impressive.”

“You’re having some kind of moral dilemma, aren’t you?”

“Not at all. See, my morals piped up and I silenced them because I don’t have time for that.” Yugi gave him a smile. “I’ll probably think about it a lot tonight, though, wondering about the original owners and the stores that lost profit because of you.”

“Will you laugh about it?”

“Probably.”

“You two are terrible.” Malik informed him while Ryou closed the door behind them.

“Oh, like you’re any better.” Yugi rolled his eyes.

“I’m much better, thank you very much.” Malik stuck his tongue out. “I’m a lowly tomb keeper, you two are thieving Kings.”

“You forget your place.” Ryou snickered. “You’re a thieving King as well.”

“I wish I wasn’t. Being a tomb keeper seems much easier.”

“... It really does.” Ryou agreed.

Yugi gave an affirmative noise as well. Once they’d exited Ryou’s house, Malik swiftly took the lead and neither of them questioned their destination. It wasn’t like they really had anywhere to be, so following him was their best bet for actually getting something of any kind done

Whether that something turned out to be something productive or just sitting around talking all day didn’t really matter.

Sitting around talking to each other was better than laying around in their houses alone and talking to themselves. There were certainly better things for them to do, of course, but they weren’t going to go out of their ways to do them. It wasn’t like they were under any sort of time constraint, anyway.

All they were waiting on to enact the next stage of their plans was Seto Kaiba finishing up the paperwork to sign over Kaiba Corp. to Yugi. Until that was done, they had all the time in the world and nothing to do with it. What was the use in trying to get business done?

Ah, but Yugi was thinking far too hard about it.

Not that he didn’t always think far too hard about things that didn’t need to be thought about too seriously. It was one of his many talents, really. Overanalyzing things was too easy for him not to be good at it. He snickered at the thought and moved just a bit closer to Ryou when a wind gust threatened to knock him over - Ryou, not him.

“Christ, Ryou, do you even eat?”

“Sometimes.” Ryou gave a weak smile. “Why?”

“Don’t think I didn’t just see that.” Yugi rolled his eyes. “I always thought Atem was kidding when he said that a particularly strong gust of wind could knock you off your feet, but now I know the truth.”

Ryou rolled his eyes as well. “Fight me.”

Yugi only chuckled at that one and gave him a gentle shove. Ryou smiled.

“So, speaking of Atem…” Yugi figured now was the best time to ask about that particular issue...

“What about him?”

“... I let him in on the plan. And he wants to know who the other Kings are.”

Malik stopped walking, causing Yugi to run into his back. Ryou stopped as well and while Yugi backed up a bit and shook his head, Malik turned around. “You told him?”

“It was tell him and possibly get his help or hide it from him and chance never seeing him again.” Yugi put his hands up in surrender. “And guess what? He wants to help.”

“Are you sure?”

“He wants his brother back, Malik.” The Pharaoh gave him a long look. “Surely you know that feeling.”

Almost immediately, Malik deflated a bit. “I do.”

“And about him wanting to know who the other Kings are…” Ryou raised a brow. “Have you told him?”

“I told him I wasn’t going to chance pissing you guys off.” A shrug. “And that I’d ask you guys about it and whether or not he gets an answer will depend entirely on you.”

“If he’s going to be helping us…” The Phantom King murmured, “We might as well tell him who we are. Ryou?”

“I have no qualms.” Ryou shrugged. “But I insist on telling him myself.”

“No problems with that here.” Yugi put his hands up again. “I’ll have fun watching him pick his chin up off the floor when he sees you.”

The resumed their walk, then.

“Where are we headed, my dear Phantom King?” Ryou asked, stepping up his pace a bit to keep up with the somewhat taller man.

“To see my sister.” He replied gruffly. “She’s going to want to sort out who really needs the Items.”

Ryou hummed at that. Yugi found himself wondering if he’d end up with the Puzzle - he liked the idea of that, really. It would be kind of fun to be able to use it for Shadow Games like Yami used to. Sure, he knew that Shadow Games were dangerous and losing would have disastrous consequences, but it sounded fun to have his soul on the line.

Call him an adrenaline junkie. He didn’t care. He could always use a bit of a thrill nowadays.

Arriving at Malik’s house, Yugi did feel somewhat apprehensive. He’d never been to the Phantom King’s home before, nor had the Phantom King been to his. If they met at a house, they tended to meet at Ryou’s, not only because it was bigger than both of their homes combined but because Ryou was a wonderful host. He was also quite insistent upon their occasional meetings taking place at his home. Yugi would go out on a limb and assume that that was probably because of some of Ryou’s remaining anxiety preventing him from feeling comfortable with hanging out at their houses. Or at least at Yugi’s.

He wasn’t sure how Ryou felt about them hanging out at Malik’s instead, but the subject had never really come up before.

Probably because Malik was a little bit self-conscious about his house. He didn’t know.

Yugi really wasn’t expecting the first thing that happened when they entered the door would be an Egyptian woman emerging from another room and beginning to speak in rushed Arabic. He had no idea what she was talking about, but Malik and Ryou were both flinching from time to time, so he assumed she was probably scolding them. Or at least Malik.

Suddenly, she stopped. “Ah, my apologies. A native Japanese?”

Yugi nodded.

She resumed her tangent in Japanese, then, and Yugi kind of thought the way that her Arabic accent crept into her words was cute. He was relieved to find that she was not scolding them, merely inquiring about the Items and insisting that they come into the living room to sit down.

Malik did not argue with her, even though he probably would have usually had a few words for anyone who tried to tell him what to do in his own home. Yugi allowed Ryou to sweep him off into the living room.

Sitting on the floor was a man that Yugi could only assume was Malik’s brother, and he supposed the woman was probably his sister. They did look quite alike, despite the woman’s hair being leagues darker than Malik’s platinum blonde. He tried to shake the thoughts away and concentrate on what was currently happening. He forced himself to tune back into what the woman was saying.

… Something about needing to give the Items to their rightful owners.

Ryou and Malik laid the Ring and the Rod on the coffee table in front of her, but she shook her head. “No, these two have already found their owners.” She said. “You will have great need of them in the future.”

Her eyes moved to Yugi. “You. You are destined for one as well, but I sense it is not nearby.” Her hand moved to her neck, to the golden necklace there. “It is with someone who is also more than right to wield it.”

“That’s not ominous at all.” Yugi sighed.

He hoped she spoke sarcasm, and, judging by the way her lips curved up, was relieved to find that she did. “Not at all.” She said smoothly. “Would you like to know which Item you are destined for?”

“Nah.” He leaned back on the couch slightly. “I’d rather be surprised.”

“Very well.” Her smile widened. “That said, these are not the only gifts that today shall bring.”

“Oh?” Malik raised his brow. “Did the Necklace show you something?”

“Yes.” She said as she headed to the other side of the room and retrieved a box before returning to the coffee table. “You will need these…” She opened the box and set three smaller boxes on the table in front of the three Kings.

Malik hesitated, but was still the first to open his. Contained within was a glowing gem. It continually changed color with a watery sort of ripple. Ishizu explained calmly that it was something of a failsafe. As long as he carried it with him, he would effectively be invulnerable to most injuries.

Ryou raised a brow and opened his box next. Three beautiful rings glittered at him. He was informed that they were enhancers. One would make using the Millennium Ring easier, the second would help prevent demonic possession, and the third would give him better control over something he had difficulty with. He knew what she meant, of course. She was talking about his mind. His breakdowns. The flashes of green in his irises. But neither of the others needed to know that, so he merely nodded.

Yugi took a shuddering breath and opened his own slowly. He felt like his whole body went cold, for a moment. He could have sworn shadows were lashing out at him from under the lid. But then it was gone and all that was left was a locket on a thin golden chain.

“That is, perhaps, the most powerful item we can give you.” Ishizu said, staring at him directly as he swallowed and carefully removed it from the box. “That locket contains more power than I have words to describe. It can do whatever you need it to. All you need to do is concentrate.”

Belatedly, Ryou began to wonder how Ishizu suddenly knew all about them needing things and if she realized what they were doing. He doubted that Malik would keep their plans from her, though, so he let the subject drop.

“... Thank you.” Yugi said softly.

“It is nothing.”

He didn’t think she understood just how much it was, but he didn’t think he could ever possibly explain it. So he merely nodded to her and looked to Ryou, who was slipping the rings onto his fingers, rearranging the ones he already wore to accommodate them. Malik merely slipped his rock into his pants pocket.

With a shaky breath, Yugi donned the locket.

Of course, he knew he’d have a great deal of trouble using it - if concentration was required, he was fucked. He had no attention span anymore. Maybe he’d get lucky and he’d only have to concentrate for a couple of seconds. He could manage a couple of seconds.

But this was such a good thing… So why did he feel like his lungs were swollen shut?


	21. The Past

To say that a meeting such as this was unconventional would be a tad bit of an understatement, the Nameless Pharaoh thought. He shook his head and looked around again, eyes darting suspiciously over the sands. A nagging feeling told him this was not only unconventional, but incredibly bad for his health.

He had little doubt that the men he was meeting with probably wanted to kill him, and yet he’d snuck off from the palace to speak to them in secret regardless. How stupid was he?

He shook his head. There was no use thinking of that, now, he was already at the arranged meeting place and he was only waiting on the Thief King and Tomb Keeper Ishtar. Surely they’d show up soon - though, whether or not they showed up armed to the teeth was yet to be seen. He highly doubted they would make their assault quite so obvious to him, but he didn’t know them very well. He could be wrong.

And it wasn’t as if the Thief King made his animosity toward him secret in any sense of the word.

He shook his head a second time, spotting a red-coated man coming over a rise in the sands. That would be the Thief King, of course. No one else was disrespectful enough to the ways of Egypt to wear that much red fabric. Truly he was a harbinger of chaos in his own right - perhaps even the chaos god Set himself in disguise.

The Nameless Pharaoh would have been in no way surprised to find that was the case, really.

“Ah, Pharaoh.” The Thief King gave him what could only be described as the grin of the cat who’d gotten the cream. “I did not think you would come.”

“I make a point of attending all councils I am invited to.” The Pharaoh said carefully. “Whether they be hosted by my ally or the god of chaos.”

The Thief King’s grin only widened. “Surely you speak of me and not Apophis or Set when you say that, no?”

“Clever _and_ chaotic.” The Pharaoh acknowledged. “A truly worrisome combination.”

All he received was a laugh in reply before the Thief King began scanning the horizons. He returned to doing so, as well, not wanting to stare at the man for too terribly long. Hormonal as he was, being a young man with no wife, staring would only lead to issues best left unsaid. He scowled.

The time between their conversation and the Tomb Keeper arriving was tense. The Thief King, despite his wide, shark-toothed grin, seemed uneasy. His eyes flickered around nervously, thumb twisting the ring on his index finger around and around without end. And the Pharaoh wasn’t exactly the picture of calm and collected, as the minutes stretched on. His heart began to pound for some reason he was currently incapable of discerning. He didn’t _think_ he was particularly nervous, but his body certainly seemed to disagree.

The feeling did not ease in the slightest when the Tomb Keeper finally appeared.

“There you are, Ishtar.” The Thief King’s grin quickly turned into a scowl. “Took you long enough.”

“Life is far too short to rush to meetings, Bakura.” Ishtar rolled his eyes. “Though I suppose that’s what the two of you did?”

“As the Pharaoh, I’ve become all too accustomed to rushing about.” The Pharaoh shrugged to him. “Now… What is this meeting about, pray tell?”

The sight of the Millennium Rod in Ishtar’s hand and the Ring dangling in front of Bakura’s chest renewed his feeling of dread and anxiety… And the way their faces lit in sadistic glee in response to the question only heightened it.

“You see, your highness…” Ishtar began, pacing around behind him. The Pharaoh did not turn, because his instincts told him that Bakura was the greater threat and he should keep his eyes on him. “As owners of Millennium Items, like you, yourself are, we know what they can do for us…”

Bakura began to pace around him as well as Ishtar came around front. He kept his eyes glued to Bakura.

“And we are very much interested in obtaining the Pendant from you…” Bakura managed to slip out of his line of sight and surface directly behind him, lips at his ear. “ _By any means necessary_.” He whispered gleefully.

“Of course,” Ishtar picked it back up, approaching from the front, pressing the Pharaoh back against Bakura. “We know you likely won’t just _give_ it to us.” He pressed close to him. They were each touching - skin to skin, Pharaoh sandwiched between two of the most dangerous people in all of Egypt. “So we’re more than prepared to take it from you somehow.”

“We _do_ encourage that you just hand it over,” Bakura said, and the Pharaoh tried very hard not to shiver at the feeling of his breath ghosting over his ear. “So what will you do?”

The immediate response that came to Pharaoh’s mind was “both of you”. Thankfully, he’d had plenty of practice with curbing impulses like that, so he was able to prevent himself from speaking the thought aloud. It was hardly appropriate for a Pharaoh to say such a thing, let alone to his enemies. So he thought about it. Or, at least, he tried to.

Bakura and Ishtar were making it very hard for him to concentrate. Bakura seemed to have taken an interest in nibbling on his ear, and Ishtar was pressing a thigh in between his legs.

Through his hormones and their most likely very deliberate attempts to distract him, he managed to weigh the pros and cons of just _giving_ them the Millennium Pendant. Giving it to them would ensure they probably wouldn’t kill him for it, which was a good thing; however, giving it to them would also ensure that they could eventually go on to steal the other Items and one day probably wake up Zorc or Apophis and destroy the world as they knew it. Not to mention, all of his advisors would be furious if he just gave it away, _especially_ to these two.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, metaphorically. Physically, he was stuck between two firm abdomens and both of them had apparently simultaneously decided to wrap their arms around him. It was making it very hard for him to make a decision.

“Answer me this, before I come to any decisions.” He was astonished that he managed to sound mostly unfazed by what they were doing. When both of them hummed to show they were listening and intrigued, he inquired, “Why do you want the Pendant?”

“Power.” They answered without hesitation.

“I could truly become a King. Raise a kingdom.” The Thief King elaborated.

“I would no longer be a Tomb Keeper. I could make my own destiny.”

He considered that. “Those are good reasons,” He admitted with a sigh. “But I worry what you might do once you’ve achieved those goals. Or what you might do in order to achieve them.”

Bakura sighed into his ear. “I was worried you might say that.”

“It’s a shame,” Ishtar said, “I was hoping to have some fun with you.”

“What do you mean?” He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until he opened them to look at Ishtar, somewhat alarmed.

“Well, if you were to give us the Pendant… Or at the very least promise it to us,” Bakura murmured, running his hands down the Pharaoh’s sides, “We were going to reward you.”

Ishtar shifted his thigh. It was all the Pharaoh could do not to melt on the spot and moan. “But if you’re going to let your morals stand in the way…”

Were his morals _really_ enough to keep him from getting laid, he wondered?

“Who said anything about my morals?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. “I’m only worried that allowing you two to achieve your goals will end in me having nothing to rule over. If you kill or take all my subjects or raise Zorc I’m essentially, for lack of a better word, _fucked_.” He allowed them both to snicker at that before saying, “And not in even a remotely pleasant way.”

He would not shiver at the sound and feeling of Bakura chuckling into his ear. He would _not._

“I suppose he’s right, isn’t he, Ishtar?”

“He is… Perhaps we should go ahead and have fun with him?”

Oh, that sounded heavenly, really.

“Only if he promises us the Pendant, Ishtar.”

“I’ll promise you the Pendant if you promise not to destroy my kingdom and ruin my reign.”

“Deal.” Said both of them.

“Perfect.”

Bakura’s lips moved from his ear down to his neck and the next couple of hours were probably the best of the Pharaoh’s life. He’d never been very submissive, but Bakura and Ishtar were so glaringly dominant that he couldn’t help bowing to their whims and letting them have their way with him. They were so much more experienced than he was…

Of course, when they were finished and his sex-addled mind caught up with him, he realized he’d probably just signed his own death warrant.

“So, Ishtar…” Bakura was idly playing with a strand of the Pharaoh’s hair. “Was it everything you wanted?”

“Definitely.” Ishtar had a leg thrown across both of the Pharaoh’s and one of Bakura’s. “Was it everything _you_ wanted?”

Bakura hummed, and judging by the way his lips curved upwards, the Pharaoh would assume it was meant to be an affirmative. Ishtar smiled as well, and both of them proceeded to plant kisses on his cheeks. He gave them both a hesitant smile, which made Bakura chuckle.

“He’s so cute…” He said to Ishtar.

“I am not cute.” The Pharaoh scowled.

“You are.” Ishtar said.

He rolled his eyes. “Nice as cuddling like this is,” He said as he slowly tried to sit up. “I really need to get back to the Palace.” Ishtar moved his legs and Bakura released him from his iron grip. “The staff are surely losing their minds with worry by now.”

“Did you not tell them where you were going?” Bakura quirked an eyebrow.

“I didn’t tell them I was going anywhere at all.” Pharaoh gave him a smirk while he began to dress himself. He hummed thoughtfully. “Now, should I give you two the Pendant now or hold onto it until nightfall?”

“We’d prefer to have it now.” Ishtar raised a brow. “Though I suppose you only want to keep it in order to keep up appearances?”

“Of course.” He hummed again, “But if I give it to you _now_ I could claim I was kidnapped and robbed.” He snickered.

“And raped, I presume?” Bakura gave him a grin.

“Oh, of course.” The Pharaoh rolled his eyes. “It was _horrible_.” He made a show of falling against a nearby rock and sobbing. He covered his face with an arm. “I’m so distraught!”

Ishtar and Bakura burst into laughter at the same moment, and something about it scared him. He tried to push it aside as he sat back up and finished dressing. He studied the Pendant for a moment or two. Suddenly, he had an _awful_ idea that he couldn’t quite place the source of. He had no reason to want to make these two angry, now - they had an agreement, after all.

“Oh, by the way.” Bakura said as he pulled his own clothing back on. “You… Won’t be going back to the castle.”

Oh. Of course, they intended to double cross him. Instead of letting panic take over, he turned to him and raised a brow. “We had an agreement, Thief.”

“We only agreed not to destroy your kingdom or ruin your reign.” Ishtar laughed. “Killing you only ends your reign.”

 _Of course_ , they wanted to kill him. He’d known all along. He’d known he’d fucked up. He merely sighed, outwardly, though inside he was lamenting his idiocy and his raging hormones. “That’s a shame.” He said, making a show of pouting. “I suppose I’ll just have to deal with it and make this hell for you.”

They had begun to advance on him, but paused and tilted their heads, glancing at each other briefly, when he took the Pendant off. He gave them a sweet smile, gripped the Pendant by its rope, and swung. It shattered against the rock next to him, and for the next ten seconds or so he enjoyed the resounding crack and the astonished looks on the others’ faces.

The satisfied smirk on his face faded in an instant when Ishtar lunged at him. He threw himself to the side as quickly as he could. The sting of the sand left him wondering if it was really worth it to make them angry, and if it was worth it in the slightest for him to dodge. He was only delaying the inevitable, after all. One of them would catch him, and then he was as good as dead.

They were faster than he was. Stronger, too. They had plenty of experience out in the world. Fighting. Killing. Personally, he was pretty much completely inexperienced - the closest thing to a physical altercation he’d ever been in before this was a fist fight with his cousin when they were very young.

Shaking the thought from his mind, he rolled to avoid the blade at the end of the Millennium Rod. He jumped to his feet, ducked under Bakura’s arm, and scooped up all the pieces of the Millennium Pendant that he could. He didn’t want to slow himself down, but he didn’t want them to be able to put it back together without problems, either. He managed to avoid being stabbed by pure luck this time.

He got as far away as he could, realizing he was quite trapped as they were surrounded by rocks and the openings through which he and the other two had come through were out of range… Except for one, a few hundred yards to his left. He could make a break for it, or he could weave back through the two psychotic men in front of him and gather the rest of the pieces of the Millennium Pendant and _then_ make a break for it. Oh, but he’d have to lure them this way first, and they weren’t _that_ slow. They’d catch on.

But they were sluggish. They’d tuckered themselves out with him.

How convenient.

Even more convenient was the large swirling vortex that opened between them right as he was about to make a decision. It blocked him from view, but it also kept him from seeing the Thief and the Tomb Keeper. He snuck up to the strange opening and peeked around. Bakura and Ishtar seemed quite entranced by it.

This was his chance.

Maybe if he shoved them through it, somehow, he could gather the pieces of the Pendant and then… Then what? Jump through himself? It sounded like a terrible idea, but maybe in whatever strange place they all ended up they’d be forced to work with him to get out… And then maybe they’d realize they really didn’t want to kill him.

It was incredibly farfetched. He almost sighed.

He darted around the portal and Ishtar, and did the first thing that came to mind. He planted his foot firmly against Ishtar’s lower back and shoved. Ishtar fell through the portal and disappeared. He did not emerge from the other side. He did not come back through. That was somewhat comforting…

The telltale sound of footsteps behind him urged him to throw himself to the side again.

Bakura couldn’t stop himself in time and he, too, fell through the portal.

The Pharaoh waited with baited breath, biting his lip. He counted to 100 in his head. Neither of them came back through.

He let the breath out and stood, heading back over to the pieces of the Pendant.

Once he’d gathered them all, he again considered what to do next. Going through the portal was seeming more and more like suicide every second, but death was better than the shame of telling his advisors and the priests why he’d felt the need to shatter the Millennium Pendant against a rock. He shook his head, held the pieces close, and decided that, yes, he was going through the portal. He didn’t care. It was his best bet, for the time being.

If he was lucky, his death would be swift.

He took a deep breath and dived through.

* * *

The boy blinked his eyes open, slowly sitting up and looking around. He felt… Well, he wasn’t sure. His mouth was dry and his limbs were heavy. He was groggy. Sluggish.

Where was he? _Who_ was he?

Oh, that wasn’t good. He didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know who he was or where he was, but he knew that was a bad thing. He should know his name… But he didn’t. Or did he?

He searched his frighteningly blank mind for names. Only one came - Atem. Yes, that sounded right. Atem sounded like it was his name.

It took him another few moments to realize he was being watched. He turned to face whoever it was, coming face to face with a younger-looking boy. His large eyes were crimson, blonde fringe framed his small face. Absently, Atem noted that he, too, had blonde fringe.

“Uh…” _Oh. Real eloquent, Atem._ He mentally slapped himself. “Hello?”

“Hello.” The boy’s eyebrows scrunched together. “You feeling okay, ‘Tem?”

“... I think I feel pretty okay, yeah. Do you know me?”

“Do I know…?” The boy frowned. “Atem, of course I know you! Are you _sure_ you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m sure. And I’m also pretty sure I don’t know you.”

“This… If this is a joke, Atem, it isn’t funny.” The boy chided, though he seemed to be growing evermore worried. “So stop.”

“I’m not joking.” Now he scrunched his eyebrow together. “Who are you? Hell, who am I?”

Realization dawned on the boy. “You… You really don’t remember me?” Atem shook his head. “I’m your brother. Yami.”

“Oh.” His attention caught on the large pyramid shaped… Thing. Hanging from a string around Yami’s neck. “What’s that?”

“Huh?” He glanced down. “Oh. It’s the Millennium Puzzle. Ancient Egyptian artifact. Supposedly super powerful. Definitely super coveted.” He frowned again. “I dunno why you lost your memory, brother, but all I have to say right now is that we need to get moving before they find us again.”

“They?” Atem inquired while he and Yami got to their feet.

“The two psychopaths who are trying to take the Puzzle from me.” Yami informed him. “We really need to get out of Egypt…” He muttered as he began to walk, more to himself than to Atem.

Truth was, the boy behind him wasn’t his brother. In fact, they’d never even met before. But he looked so much like him he’d taken a wild guess and called him ‘Tem - his very own nickname. The boy had responded, but it was yet to be seen if he responded because he _thought_ that was his name or because it really was. Yami wouldn’t really be surprised if it was - it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to happen to him.

And the name ‘Yami’ had come into his head on a whim. He’d have to make sure he responded correctly to it when it was said from now on.

He glanced at Atem. He really did look a whole lot like him - darker skinned, though. The correct skin tone. The one that Yami really should have had considering his past but he didn’t. Yami was pale, incredibly so seeing as he was Egyptian, but Atem _looked_ Egyptian.

He was willing to bet that this boy was the consequence of the last Shadow Game he’d played with Bakura…

“Why do we need to leave Egypt?”

“To get away from the psychopaths.”

“... Fair point.” Atem sighed. “... How about we try to head to like… Japan or somewhere like that?”

“That’s a great idea!” Yami exclaimed. “You’re a genius, ‘Tem!” It felt _so_ wrong to say that. “They’d never think to look there!”

“Meaning we’d need to get money for plane tickets, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And probably learn the language.”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly Japan seemed like a terrible idea - or at least a very tedious one. It was still genius to go there. Bakura and Ishtar would never think to look there - not unless they somehow got wind of where he’d gone.

“I’ll see what I can do about that.” Atem said, and Yami found himself wondering if maybe, just maybe, the boy was taking on the role he’d been tricked into believing he fit into. It certainly sounded like something a brother would say… But wait. That meant he was becoming the big brother. “For now, where would we be safe for the night?”

Oh. The sun _was_ setting, wasn’t it?

“I know a place.” Yami said. “Well, technically, _we_ know a place, but you forgot. I blame Bakura.”

“Is he one of the psychopaths?”

“Yeah. Probably the worse of the two, in terms of being a threat.” Yami ducked through some alleys. “The other one is just… Nuts. Bakura’s smart. Like, _really_ smart. And he’s a crafty, clever bastard.”

“He’s probably got a plan laid out for how he’s gonna kill us and take the Puzzle, right?”

“Most likely. Meanwhile, the other one will just go with whatever happens as long as he ends up with the Puzzle in his hands and our corpses on the ground around him.”

Atem made a sound that Yami could only describe as the vocal equivalent of a shudder. He could _definitely_ relate.


	22. Flames of Despair

Ryou had been laying here for… Gods knew how long, really.

He’d been laying in the window sill in Malik’s room, listening to Malik laugh and converse with his siblings. He would estimate it had been at least an hour, judging by the position of the sun in the sky. He was currently twisting one of the rings he’d received from Ishizu around his finger, staring at the door, and wandering around and around in his mind.

His mind kept meandering back toward the past, and he kept diverting it back to the present, only to have to go back again.

It was becoming unspeakably annoying. And incredibly inconvenient, as well, since he could no longer keep a solid train of thought. His mind wanted to reminisce, but he wanted to think. His mind wanted the comfort of the past and he wanted the comfort of the present instead.

_You know it isn’t going to work._

_Yeah, I know. But that isn’t going to stop me._

_You’re too difficult for our health._

_Always have been._

_It’s annoying._

_You’re annoying._

_You just called yourself annoying._

_I realize that. I don’t care. I’m annoying. You’re annoying._ **_We’re_ ** _annoying and no one likes us._

_Malik and Yugi like us._

_They haven’t met the real us. And they don’t like_ **_you_ ** **.** _They like me._

 _They’re just smart enough to know that I’m a sociopath._ Green-eyes was quite dismissive, as usual.

Ryou was hardly surprised, nor was he particularly pleased. There wasn’t much he could do, though. Doing anything to Green-eyes was useless - Green-eyes would just return anything he dished out with glee and far more fervor. It was only self-destructive, regardless of that, anyway, because Green-eyes was him and he was Green-eyes.

Having Dissociative Identity Disorder was a real bitch, especially since his alter could fucking talk to him. That wasn’t supposed to be a thing, he didn’t think. He and his alter weren’t supposed to be able to talk to each other without some difficulty, but here they were going back and forth like an old married couple.

_Wish they’d be smart enough to know that I need some serious help._

_I’m sure Malik realizes it._ Green-eyes probably shrugged. Ryou couldn’t be sure. _But I’m also pretty sure he thinks that finding Bakura will help you. Not that he’s wrong, of course, because if you remember I was much quieter around him._

 _I remember._ Ryou assured him. _And I miss it._

Green-eyes gave a cackle to that.

Ryou wished he wouldn’t sound so smug. It was utterly infuriating.

He also wished that he wasn’t so fucked up in the head. Life would likely be much easier for him if he wasn’t. If he could function as a proper human being. God how he missed being able to function as a proper human being.

How many years had it been since he’d been able to do that?

Lord, he’d been _tiny_ at the time.

It was before the car accident, meaning it was nearly… Oh, dear. He’d wager about 10 or 11 years. It had been about three months before he and his father moved to Domino, after all. Three months before his father shot himself in the head in front of him.

He tried to shake the memories away, but to this day he could still sometimes hear the gunshot and feel the splattering of his father’s blood across his own face. It always made Green-eyes act all giddy. The sight of blood, the sound of a gun, the very idea of someone else in pain, was enough to make that psychopath giddy.

 _I’m not a psychopath._ Green-eyes taunted, _I’m a sociopath. There’s a difference~!_

“I don’t care.” Ryou groaned, and even though he didn’t mean to respond out loud, it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like Malik was listening. He was too busy with his siblings. He probably thought Ryou had left with Yugi.

That would bring a bit of a nasty shock for him when he came up to go to bed.

When Green-eyes chuckled this time, he wasn’t alone. Schadenfreude was one of the only things they really had in common aside from a distinct interest in Bakura, Marik, and Malik. Oh, and horror movies! They _loved_ horror movies.

For wildly different reasons, of course, but the fact remained that they had it in common.

 _Think you’ll ever go away?_ Ryou inquired.

_Maybe one day, dear. Maybe one day._

Ryou sighed. _But when? I’d like to have my head back._

_Maybe when we get Bakura back. I might not go away completely, but we both know I’ll be quieter._

_… He was more of a cure than he knew._ Ryou sighed again.

_Indeed. And oh, we loved him…_

_We still love him._

_We do._

Ryou licked his lips and checked his pockets. He would _kill_ for a cigarette, right now. He was getting a headache from interacting with Green-eyes so much and nicotine always helped. He cursed softly. He’d left his only pack of cigarettes in Valhalla. _Stupid_. He gave a groan and leaned back, massaging his temples.

He almost didn’t hear the bedroom door opening, but thankfully he wasn’t quite that far gone just yet. The soft gasp following it made his lips twitch.

“I thought you left.” Malik informed him softly, shutting the door with a quiet, barely-there _click_. “What’s wrong?”

“Headache.” Ryou informed him just as softly. “Why are we whispering?”

“I’m not sure I want Ishizu to know you’re here.” Malik shrugged as he approached. He glanced out the window. “Want me to get you something?”

“Such a gentleman.” He teased gently, though Green-eyes definitely influenced him a bit. “But unless you have a cigarette, no. I’ll survive.”

“You know, conveniently enough, I keep a pack around for you.”

He blinked at him. “You… You do?”

“Yeah. I almost stopped when you told me you quit smoking, but I figured it was better safe than sorry.”

“That’s…” He struggled for a moment. “That’s so thoughtful. I didn’t think you were capable of being that sweet to anyone who wasn’t Marik.”

Malik snorted softly. “I was never even this sweet to Marik. I’m definitely sweeter to you.” He moved away from the window and retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his nightstand drawer. “Here.”

“I did kind of wonder why you still had an ashtray over there since you don’t smoke and I quit.” Ryou said as he took the pack. “Thanks.”

Malik just snickered and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Ryou thanked the gods that he didn’t actually need a lighter to light a cigarette - just some concentration. When the very first traces of the sickly smog he so craved entered his mouth, he felt his whole body relax. The dull throbbing in his head faded. Green-eyes gave a relieved sigh.

He felt so genuinely content, for the moment, that he chose to blow the smoke out in a ring rather than a cloud. Malik clapped softly.

“That was really well formed.” He said.

“Thanks.” Ryou shot him a smile, feeling his eyelids droop a bit. For once he decided to let his emotions run their course. Maybe he’d be less confused - and besides, he rarely let himself be happy. Content. Even just relaxed.

Malik smiled back at him. “It’s been awhile since I saw a genuinely happy smile on your face.”

“Been awhile since I genuinely felt like smiling because I was happy.” Ryou shrugged.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Dunno.” Ryou shrugged again. “Just… Feel happy. And maybe if I don’t try to hold all my emotions in they won’t confuse me so much.”

“Maybe.” Malik frowned slightly. “Come here.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just come here.”

 _He sounds so much like ‘Kura when he orders us around like that._ Green-eyes swooned.

_Hush._

He chose to obey in order to avoid making this awkward, sliding off the window sill and swaying his way over to where Malik sat on the edge of the bed. Malik opened his arms. Ryou smiled again and perched himself happily on Malik’s lap, wrapping his free arm around the man’s shoulders. He rested the other on Malik’s bicep, cigarette extending from between his fingers.

“Did you just want to hold me?” He asked, vaguely amused by the thought.

“Yeah.” Malik admitted. “Well, that and I was worried you might get a bright idea sitting over there next to the unlocked window.”

 _He thinks we might decide to jump_. Green-eyes observed.

_No, really?_

_It’s weird how I can still hear the sarcasm when we’re not actually talking._

“You said it yourself, Malik… I might not be afraid of dying, but I don’t want to yet. Not until we find Bakura.” He pressed a kiss to the Egyptian’s temple. “Besides… If I were to go, we both know I’d go in a fight or while doing some sorta black magic occult type bullshit in the middle of the night.”

“True enough.” Malik looped his arms around the skinnier man’s waist. “Can’t say I don’t worry, though.”

“Thats sweet.” Ryou took a drag off his cigarette and blew the smoke out away from Malik’s face before he flicked the ashes into the ashtray. “You’re sweet.”

“You’ve told me that already.” Malik rolled his eyes.

“Well it’s true.”

He rolled his eyes again. “I think you need to go to sleep.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

Regardless, Malik didn’t make any move to make him lay down. He remained upright, holding him close. It felt so nice to be held… Ryou lost himself in the moment for a bit, allowing his head to fall forward, nose bumping against Malik’s. Malik gave him a gentle squeeze around the waist and a small smile.

Looking at that smile, Ryou could almost believe that Malik gave a shit about him.

 _You know, I think he honestly does._ Green-eyes almost sounded like he was in shock.

Ryou didn’t blame him. The idea of anyone other than Bakura genuinely caring for them was almost like something that would come out of a fairy tale. A really badly written fairy tale. One where the plot is supposed to focus on some weakly thought out plan, straight from the mind of some jilted villain or another, but instead focuses mostly on the love story between the un-loveable main character and the boy who sees the main character’s unforgivable flaws as something to be admired.

 _Oh,_ Ryou thought, _wait. That’s every fairy tale ever._

He snorted quietly, pulling back a bit and taking one last drag off the cigarette before he snuffed it out in the ashtray. He had to lean over quite a bit to manage it - or maybe ‘a bit’ was putting it lightly. The point was that he very nearly fell off Malik’s lap trying to put his cigarette out, but still managed to do it before Malik realized what was happening and drew him back up and into a tight embrace.

“Careful.” He gave a somewhat weak smile.

Green-eyes swooned, and Ryou had to try very hard to avoid doing the same. He _did_ accomplish his goal, though, and instead gave Malik a smile. “No promises.”

Malik rolled his eyes. “So… Any plans for tonight?”

“I was hoping to be able to annoy you for a while.” Ryou shrugged. “Past that, not really.”

“Well you aren’t annoying me.” Malik chuckled. “Stay a while longer?”

“If you want me to.”

“I want you to.” Malik laid back, pulling Ryou onto his chest. “In fact, I’d like it if you stayed all night.”

He tried to sound nonchalant, but didn’t bother hiding the nervousness in his face. Ryou’s head was resting on his chest, so he couldn’t see the way his was biting his lip, or the way he slowly started biting down harder the longer he went without a response.

Finally, Ryou kissed his shoulder and chuckled. “Sure, why not? That’s something new.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Wanna get more comfortable?”

“... Yeah.”

They rearranged themselves on the bed, stretching and popping joints to make sure they’d be comfortable before they actually laid down. And, against his better judgement, Ryou finally turned his back to Malik to allow him to spoon him. Malik smiled into his hair and pulled him close.

Ryou had forgotten how nice it was to feel safe and protected. How nice it felt to be held like that. Three years of sleeping alone had never dulled his want to be held, but he had started to be able to ignore it… He didn’t think he’d be able to do that again, now.

They really needed to find Bakura soon, so that his feeling of being safe wouldn’t be tainted by his thoughts of “what if he tries something?” and “he could kill me right now.” He knew Bakura better than he knew anyone else - he could trust him. No matter how much of a raging psychopath he was, Bakura would never hurt him intentionally. There had been a couple times, early on, but they hadn’t known each other then. They didn’t trust each other. They were both grasping at straws for some kind of companionship but Bakura was too mistrustful.

It had taken them almost a year to get comfortable around each other.

Bakura hadn’t really ever hurt him since, and, in fact, had been extremely protective of him. Any time he so much as nicked his finger carving a Monster World figurine, Bakura insisted on helping him bandage it. Insisted on checking for infections because his carving knife was really sharp and if a piece of wood got in there it could be terrible for him.

The only exceptions to Bakura “not hurting him” was when he was used in Bakura’s plans. When they thought that Yami and Yugi would be spurred on by Ryou being hurt.

He pushed the thoughts away, licked his lips, and took a breath. He pressed his back against Malik’s chest, though somewhat hesitantly. Malik made a soft pleased noise.

About an hour later, the Egyptian was fast asleep and Ryou was fighting the deep-set urge he always had to leave.

He sighed.


	23. War

“So everything’s in order, then?” Yugi raised a brow.

Seto nodded. “Yes. You’re officially the owner of the corporation now.”

Yugi smiled. “Wonderful. Tell me, Seto, did I ever explain our plans to you?”

Seto shook his head. “No, you didn’t.” He cocked his head to the side. “Why do you ask?”

“Because it’s high time you knew what I’m going to be using your company for.”

* * *

Ryou hummed as he looked up from his cup of tea. “Oh. Hello, Joey.”

The blonde had entered the room rather cautiously, looking around to see who was present. “Yo.” He gave a wave while he wandered over to a comfortable looking corner and sat down.

“What brings you to Valhalla?”

“Yug’s talkin’ to Se-” He cut himself off, though Ryou wasn’t sure why. “He’s talkin’ to Kaiba. Told me to wait here and tell ya he was gonna be a while.”

Ah. He’d been about to say “Seto”. “Thank you, Joey.” Ryou smiled. “At least someone is here to keep me company.”

Joey looked around. “... Wait. Where’s Malik?”

“With his sister. It seems she has found reason to educate him further on the use of the Millennium Rod.” He yawned and stretched out on his cushion after setting his cup down on the table next to it. “I almost wish I had someone to tell me how to use the Ring.”

“Couldn’t you ask Ishizu?”

“I suppose I could, but I’d rather not.” Ryou quirked a brow. “I’m not entirely sure I trust her.”

“Can’t fault ya for that.” Joey scratched at his cheek. “So, uh… I been meanin’ to ask for years but… What in the hell didja ever even see in Bakura?”

For a moment, Ryou felt an overwhelming desire to kill him, but he pushed it down. “Well, there was a lot.” He sighed. “He took care of me, he was sweet… It took him a while to warm up to me, of course, just like it took him a while to give up on his goal of killing Yami.”

“So… Basically, he was Mr. Right to you and Mr. Hellspawn to everybody else?”

“Basically.”

Joey scratched his nose with one of his knuckles. “Guess that makes sense. Ya know, you prob’ly never saw it, but Yami was a real jackass at first. He was absolutely nuts, but he was always real sweet to Yug’. And to ‘Tem, too, but there was something different, there. ‘Tem was super protective of Yami, but Yami seemed kinda… I dunno. Yami was really lacking in warmth toward him, even though he pretended to care.”

“Really?” Ryou tilted his head. “He always seemed really sweet and loving, to me… At least when Bakura and Marik weren’t around.”

“Oh, eventually he was.” Joey said, “But at first… Well, sometimes I just don’t think that Yami’s… Normal.”

“I had the same thought about Bakura a lot of the time.” He stretched again. “He got so distant sometimes… He got this thousand-yard stare for hours on end and he’d mutter about how ‘that meddling king’ ruined everything.”

“Yami used to do that, too.” Yugi’s voice chimed as he seated himself in his throne, eyes on his phone. “Minus the ‘meddling king’ part. Mostly he just cursed about ‘Ishtar’ and ‘the Thief’.”

Ryou and Joey blinked at each other.

“That’s ominous.” Ryou informed him.

“Indeed.” Yugi glanced at him over his phone. “We’ll just have to ask them about that when we find them. Shouldn’t be too long, now, anyway.” He smiled.

“So you finalized everything, then?” Joey asked from the corner.

“Yep.”

“Hurrah.” Ryou chuckled.

“Where’s Malik?”

“With his sister.”

“Very well.” Yugi turned his attention back to his phone. “When he gets back here, we’re going to start the next stage of the plan.”

“Really?” Joey’s eyebrows shot up.

“Already?” Ryou’s did as well.

“Yes. There’s no reason to delay it any longer than we have to.”

Ryou valiantly resisted the urge to jump to his feet and shout for joy. Soon enough they would find them - their lovers. Their protectors. They would find them and then everything would be right in the world again. Hopefully. Oh, he couldn’t wait. He was getting antsy.

Malik _really_ needed to hurry up with his sister. If he didn’t get here soon, Ryou would probably take it upon himself to go and retrieve him, no matter how busy he was and how much he fought it. He couldn’t take much more waiting, he realized. He just couldn’t. He’d done enough waiting. He’d waited for three and a half years for this day to come - the day when he’d actually be able to start doing something to spur on them finding their lovers.

Though, of course, back then he’d only been worried about finding Bakura, because Yami and Marik were still around. But soon enough they’d vanished too and so had any traces of sanity he could have previously fooled himself into thinking he had.

It was one thing for him to be lonely and mentally broken, but with Yugi and Malik joining him it wasn’t… He wasn’t sure what it wasn’t. Or what it was, for that matter. He just knew that them losing their lovers too had only brought him even more determination to find Bakura. He guessed he just didn’t like having competition for ‘most miserable’ or ‘most psychotic’ in their little friend group.

Besides, Yugi was supposed to be light-hearted and Malik was supposed to be an asshole with a god-complex. They weren’t supposed to be dark and broody. Angry. Ready to kill someone at the drop of a pin. And, really, he wasn’t supposed to be any of that either but they could probably be fixed. He was permanently broken.

Bakura being around would help him heal but he’d never quite be the same. He’d always have all these little cracks in his mind that couldn’t quite be filled in. Sure, some of them were made prior to Bakura leaving but at the time they’d been scratches. Little grooves in his sanity that he could usually shovel some sense into.

He shook himself out of the thoughts the moment he heard the sound of someone entering Valhalla. He hoped that it was Malik, and when he turned his head, found that, for once, he’d gotten what he wanted.

A grin split his cheeks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yugi’s expression twist to mirror his own.

“What’re you two looking at me like that for?” Malik frowned at them.

“Now that you’re here, we can move on.” Yugi chuckled. “It’s time to start the next stage of our plan.”

Immediately the frown flipped into the same grin that was plastered on their faces.

* * *

“My friends,” Ryou gave a chuckle and a wide sweep of his arm. “As you _all_ know, I have much bigger plans for you than to simply gain riches.” A murmur passed through the large, previously silent ocean of Bandits down on the ground floor, below him. “And now, it is time for these plans to come to light!” Another murmur. Several people began to shift about.

“For the three years during which I have been reigning as Bandit King, I have _always_ had a master plan. But I am not alone in these plans, for all of you have a place, and, as you know, I have alliances with both the other Kings. This plan is ours - it began as little more than a suggestion over tea. But now…” He chuckled again, “Now it has flourished into more than we ever could have hoped for.” He gave them a moment to consider it, took a breath, and said, “Would you like to know the plan?”

There was a resounding cheer.

He grinned. “Very well, then allow me to tell you - we, the Immortals, and the Ghouls are going to _take control of Domino!_ ” Everything went dead silent, allowing his words to hang in the air as if the gods themselves had left them there, resounding off the stone walls of the Thieves’ Den. “Now, you may be thinking, ‘But sir, we’ve already done that’, and, in effect, we have. But we’ve only taken territory. We’ve claimed sections. As we enter into the next stage of our plan, gang boundaries will no longer stand. We can come and go freely - the South will be taken, as well. But while we tear down our gang boundaries, we will begin the true takeover. The takeover of the political powers.

“The Pharaoh will begin the process by using Kaiba Corp. to buy out all the local businesses. Every store, restaurant, and dive bar in Domino will belong to the Immortals. One would hope they’d take that opportunity to kick back for a bit, but we all know those tightasses won’t.” This milked a collective chortle from his crowd. “And then he will use the pull he has on them to bring on an uprising. He will stage strikes, food shortages, bar fights… He will create panic in the city. Then, when the Mayor can do nothing to stop the mayhem, when he gives into despair, we will take his office. The Ghouls, meanwhile, will be using troops from all of the gangs to take the outer limits of the city. The farms, the docks, the main highways. No one will have a way in or out except by air, but we will be controlling all incoming flights to the airport, and Zen will be seeing to it that this is declared a no-fly zone regardless.

“Of course, we all know that the public won’t just sit back and relax while gangs overrun the city like that, and that is where all of you play a very important part. You will be my soldiers. My implements of order. You, along with the masses of Immortals and hordes of Ghouls, will make sure that the civilians cannot fight back too terribly hard while we wean the information we need straight out of the government.”

He paused, taking another breath. He examined the teeming masses below him. These were his men. His toy soldiers. Without them, he and the other Kings would be doomed.

“So, my friends… Are you with me?”

He took great comfort in the cheer that he received from them.

* * *

Joey had always thought sunset looked more beautiful when you could see it away from all the big-city distractions he was so used to. He thought it looked best when it was, for the most part, uninterrupted by buildings and people - that was why he liked watching it from up here, on the very top of Kaiba Corp. tower. Up here, only the sound of the wind greeted him while he stared out toward the horizon. Only the tops of buildings interrupted his view.

It was peaceful, up here. Peaceful, calm, and entirely the right place for him to be at the moment. This was where he always went we he felt jittery, nowadays, because nothing calmed him down quite like self-imposed solitude thousands of feet above the ground with a perfect view of the edges of the city.

Sometimes Seto joined him, but usually he was left alone. Seto knew a coping mechanism when he saw one.

He sighed, leaning against the railings. His nerves were still buzzing from Yugi’s speech to the Immortals. All his senses were on high alert - every single teeny tiny noise got to him. It was ridiculous, but he’d been incredibly overstimulated today. He was excited, nervous, scared, angry; he’d been given the news that he’d be working very closely with Zen and Spectre; he still had to at least try to be a decent boyfriend… It was really a lot to handle all at once. Maybe if he was a little more emotionally balanced and things weren’t getting so serious he’d feel better but the problem was that nothing was going to be too incredibly calm until all of this was over, and who knew how long that would take.

It could be a few days to a couple of years. He didn’t think he could handle this much stress long term, really. He’d probably go insane. Maybe end up killing Seto and himself to escape.

He knew he’d been spending way too much time around Yugi and Ryou when that thought made him laugh rather than making him upset.

He sighed again and rubbed his temples. This wasn’t good. _Well no shit, Sherlock_ , he said to himself, _this is terrible. Everything’s terrible._

“Not… Everything.” He found himself smiling just a little bit when he heard footsteps on the stairs behind him. _There are some parts that make this shit worth it._

Seto’s arms wrapped around his waist and the man’s chin rested on his head. He said nothing, he just held onto him. Joey pushed himself away from the railings and leaned into the taller man’s chest. Seto was warm… His touch was strangely comforting, considering that just a few weeks before he’d had to fight with himself not to flinch away from every non-intimate brush of skin.

He gave another sigh, this one much more relieved than exasperated. He laid his arms over Seto’s and looked up at him through his bangs while he tipped his head back to rest on Seto’s shoulder. “Hey.” He said after a moment.

“Hey.” Seto smiled at him gently, voice soft.

Joey couldn’t help smiling in return - he loved how considerate Seto was. It was so refreshing after the day he’d had… And refreshing in comparison to the cold demeanor he used to project.

He was so glad that he didn’t have to deal with that anymore. He liked being loved. Being cherished. It was nice, really. He’d never gotten this before. He was pretty sure he was addicted to human contact now.

Was that even a thing? He wasn’t sure, but he also didn’t really care.

“Still feeling overwhelmed?” Seto murmured.

“Just a little bit.”

“It’ll pass.” He kissed his forehead.

Joey closed his eyes and gave him a big, dopey smile. He heard Seto chuckle as he pressed another kiss to his forehead.

“It really is beautiful up here, isn’t it?” Seto asked after a long moment.

“Yeah.” Joey opened his eyes to look out over the city again. “It is. It’s calming… Quiet.”

“Think it would help Mokuba de-stress?” Seto joked softly.

He chuckled in reply. “Maybe. Good luck getting him up here, though. Isn’t he scared of heights?”

“Less scared of heights, more scared of falling.” He shrugged.

“Makes sense.”

There was a much longer silence this time, filled mostly by Joey losing himself to his thoughts.

Eventually, Seto spoke again. “So… Their plan is really in it’s final stages?”

Joey nodded. “Yeah.”

“That what has you stressed out?”

“Kind of.”

“Then I’ll shut up about it.”

“It’s alright, babe.” He chuckled. “You don’t have to shut up, it’s just… I didn’t honestly think we’d ever get this far. It’s kind of nerve-wracking to have finally made it…. Not to mention I’m stuck working with Spectre and Zen for the time being.”

“Ryou and Malik’s right hands?” Seto guessed.

“Yeah.”

“You’ll do great, Puppy. You put up with me all the time, after all.”

“But I love you.” Joey pouted. “They make me wanna strangle small cute things.”

“I thought you liked small cute things.”

“That’s the point.”

Seto let a smile overcome his lips. “So, Puppy, I’ve been meaning to ask…”

But he didn’t continue. He just went completely silent, and Joey’s heart began to race. “Y-yeah, babe? What is it?”

“That Brooklyn accent of yours… Why do you use it around Yugi and the others?”

Relief washed through him. That was all this was about - he didn’t need some huge personal secret. It was something minor. “Ah, that? It’s a defense mechanism. I feel… I feel like people take me a little more seriously when I sound like a rough ‘n tumble Brooklyn boy.”

“So why don’t you use it with me? Are you not worried about me taking you seriously?”

“It’s… It’s not that.” Joey frowned. “I trust you. I don’t feel like I need to act big and bad around you anymore. Besides, it started as a play to get you to trust me and not think I was a total idiot… And now I don’t really see the point in putting my guard back up after I purposely tore it down for you.”

“So… You’re more comfortable around me than a friend you’ve had for years?”

“Pretty much.”

“Puppy, I’m touched.” He nuzzled into his hair. “That’s sweet.”

“Oh, hush.”

“Make me.”

He turned in his arms and kissed him.


	24. The Lost

The three of them had long since gotten used to the sounds that they each made in their boredom, but that didn’t mean that any of them was any less annoyed three years later than they had been when they’d first been thrown in here.

Bakura had come first, and while he’d spent his time worrying his head off about Ryou he’d kind of enjoyed the solitude - at least in comparison to how he felt about the next three years of his imprisonment. He’d spent six months in the cell by himself, laying on his back on one of the cots staring up at the ceiling. He’d dreamed up a world where he and Ryou could be together without any issues. The world he’d so jokingly spoken about with the young Brit himself on most occasions when he felt the need to roll his eyes.

Really, he only came out of that world in order to eat and drink and go to the bathroom.

The bathroom was an adjoining room that didn’t lock, but if one did feel the need to be alone and have some privacy, they could simply lean against the door and sit there until they felt better. It wasn’t as if they were too impatient about going to the bathroom after three years of sharing a room and a bathroom.

But, yes, six months into his imprisonment, he’d been joined by the other two, at first by Marik. He’d been able to handle that fairly well, and the two of them spoke of their younger, cuter boyfriends quite often. Marik wasn’t exactly pleased with his situation because he’d only recently actually confessed to Malik and now suddenly he was stuck in a cell on some deserted island with Bakura.

After about three weeks, they were joined by an uncharacteristically nasty Yami.

He spat insults at the guards in their native tongue all the way down the hallway, bit one of the men on the hand, and once he’d been tossed into the room he only huffed. He’d folded himself onto a bunk on the opposite side of the room, then, and hadn’t spoken a word to them until two days into his stay, when he finally explained to them that he hadn’t been taken, like they had. He’d come willingly to protect Yugi, though his consent was still dubious at best.

They hadn’t questioned his strangely homicidal mood after that. To them, it made sense. Yami had been strong-armed into abandoning the most important person in his life. He’d been given a choice, unlike them, and yet he still had to choose to be taken or else Yugi would have come to physical harm. Bakura knew that feeling - he would be completely distraught if Ryou got hurt and he could have prevented it. Marik, well… They weren’t sure if he could relate.

Not that it mattered.

Yes, three years later they were quite used to each other’s bored tics. There wasn’t much that any of them could do that would surprise the others.

Yami contemplated their lovers’ lives without them, sometimes out loud. Bakura clicked his tongue and made different shapes with his lips to change the noise. Marik drummed his fingers on the wooden base of his cot.

“I really do wonder…” Yami said, for possibly the thousandth time.

Just because they were used to it didn’t mean they weren’t all exasperated. Bakura groaned. “We know. We know you wonder!”

“You know, shockingly I wasn’t going to say, ‘I really do wonder how he’s doing’.” This, of course, caused him to receive the other two’s undivided attention. “I was going to say, ‘I really do wonder if either of you ever think about it’.”

“Of course we think about it.” Marik rolled his eyes.

“How could we not, with you prompting us at all times?” Bakura repeated the motion, which only prompted a bittersweet memory of Ryou joking about that habit.

“Well, then, what do you think, guys?”

Marik yawned and looked at Bakura. “You first, Thief.”

Bakura rolled his eyes again. “Thief _King._ ” He chided, then, “Fine.” He laid back down, though he wasn’t sure exactly when he’d sat up. “I… Ryou’s probably dead by now.” He admitted. “He’s hopeless, really. I doubt he survived this long without some serious problems. And if he is still alive I’m willing to bet he’s gone absolutely bonkers.”

“Fair enough.” Yami sighed. “Ishtar?”

Marik shrugged. “I’m sure Malik’s still alive, but I doubt he really cares what happened to me. He probably just thinks I ghosted him. He’s most likely doing great - friends, maybe he found his siblings…” He shrugged again. “I do imagine what it would be like if he did still care about me, sometimes. And if we got out of here.”

“I think about that too.” Bakura admitted.

There was no use for any of them to try and be strong. To try and hide their emotions. By now all of them had seen everything the others had to offer.

“What about you, Yami?” Marik raised a brow. “You never actually go into what you think’s become of Yugi.”

“I think he’s heartbroken, if he’s alive. Maybe he got with Atem to fill the void, maybe he killed himself. Maybe he did both. Kid’s liked me since he was… I dunno, 10, so I doubt he took my disappearance very well. But I also doubt he’d be quite a susceptible to a mental breakdown about it as Ryou would be. Yugi has a lot more support - he’s got Joey, Tristan, Atem, his grandpa… Hell, I bet even Kaiba would pull his head out of his ass long enough to comfort him if Yugi actually had half a mind to try and get him to.”

“You’ve got a point there.” Bakura snorted. “For being so sweet, that kid’s got some manipulation skills. He could take over the damn world, I’d bet.”

“I second that.”

The silence that fell over them this time was frighteningly companionable in comparison to all the ones that had preceded it.

When this one was broken it was, unsurprisingly, by Yami. “So, I do have another question for you two, since we seem to be feeling fairly open today.”

“Eh, shoot. Not like we’ve got anything better to do.” Bakura waved a hand.

“Well, I know why you two wanted the Puzzle all those millennia ago… You made your intentions clear when I asked.” He only received grunts in response, so he continued. “So I have to wonder… Why did you want to kill me even when I was willing to hand over the Pendant?”

“I dunno.” Bakura said after a long pause. “I guess we just did.”

“I always wanted to kill everyone around me at that point in time.” Marik shrugged yet again.

Yami was beginning to worry that Marik’s arm might just fall right off if he kept doing that so much. “That’s fair… And it leads me to my next question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you guys give up?”

“Well…” They glanced at each other and Bakura took point. “We _really_ wanted the Pendant back then. That’s obvious. We wanted the Pendant and we’d do whatever we could to get it back then. But… The longer we dealt with being in the modern world, the longer we were around Ryou and Malik… The less we wanted the Puzzle. We started to crave normal life - or at least I did. No good was coming of my criminal genius just trying to kill you, after all, and I realized I was being absolutely terrible to the only person in the world who would put up with me no matter what.” He sighed. “Ryou was a real trooper, then.” He shook his head. “Anyway, yeah. Mostly we gave up because we no longer wanted the Puzzle and we realized it wasn’t doing any good to keep trying to kill you.”

“... Fair enough.” Yami shrugged. “Guess it’s just as well that you gave up. You’d have been pissed when I got tossed in here without it.”

“Why don’t you have it?” Marik furrowed his brows.

“It was part of the wager to keep Yugi safe.” Yami admitted. “I had to come here willingly, without a fight, and I had to give Pegasus the Puzzle so he could use it at some point to torment Atem.”

“That’s horrible.” Bakura said. “I like it.”

He and Marik returned to their typical bored actions while Yami sort of just leaned back on his cot and sighed. “You know… I get the strangest feeling we’re not going to be here much longer.”

“I hope not.” Was the reply he got from Marik.

Bakura only made a dubious gesture and continued to click his tongue.

Yami sighed again, and then was silent. It was little use trying to keep the conversation going, after all. Bakura and Marik obviously weren’t interested in talking anymore. Oh, well. It had been nice while it lasted. Maybe he could try again tomorrow…

“Hey, Yami?”

He really hadn’t been expecting Bakura to say anything, but he was certainly willing to listen. “Yeah?”

There was a brief silence, followed by a weak chuckle, and finally the words, “Think Ryou and Yugi would mind if we had a repeat of that day in Egypt? I’m blueballsed to high hell.”

Marik snorted. Yami chuckled. “Who says they even have to find out about it?” He winked.

“I forgot how sneaky and prone to lying you are.” Marik noted boredly. “So why would it just be you two? I’m horny as all hell, too, you know.”

They looked at each other for a second, then back to him. “Well, Malik’s kind of off in the deep end with us. He’s probably just as possessive of you as you are of him. I don’t think he’d be happy about it.” Yami shrugged.

“Well, as you said… Who says he has to find out?”

“... Fair point.”

“... So, is this happening?” Bakura looked somewhat hopeful as he sat up on his elbow.

“I don’t see why it can’t.” Yami gave another shrug and within a minute he had been completely stripped by the other two and pinned against a wall by Bakura. He blinked. “Eager. Forceful… I like it.”

“You liked it back then, too.” Marik reminded him with a chuckle. “You liked it a _lot_.”

Yami only grinned while Bakura went about hooking his legs over his hips - at least until the head of Bakura’s already engorged cock prodded at his puckered entrance. He bit his lip at that, letting his head fall back against the wall and gently squeezing the other’s hips. It was nothing more than a wordless warning of, “Be careful”.

Bakura responded by kissing him on the neck and slowly pushing into him, inch by agonizing inch. Yami was surprised at how well his face avoided displaying the stinging pain he felt - he guessed it was just years of practice. He was also kind of surprised that it didn’t hurt more. It had technically been about 3,000 years since anything entered him through that particular orifice, after all, because the men in front of him right now were the last ones to try it.

“Wonder if we’d both fit in him…” Marik mused, twisting a piece of Bakura’s hair around his finger.

“Doubtful.” Bakura did nothing to stop him from playing with his hair. Yami thought that somewhat unfair, because every time he’d so much as touched Bakura’s hair he’d been swatted. “He’s too skinny and you’re simply too big to fit with me already in him. We’d probably rip him open.”

“Mm. I guess you’re right.” Marik gave a disappointed sigh and rested his head on Bakura’s shoulder.

Bakura adjusted his hold on Yami and prepared to start moving, but suddenly gasped and twitched inside him. The taller male shot Marik a lust-clouded glare and muttered something about Tomb Keepers being ridiculously impatient. Yami didn’t bother trying to articulate a question about that.

Not that he could have, anyway. He was a little bit distracted by the throbbing cock in his ass.

Bakura bit his lip and held still a moment longer, then shot Marik another glare, sighed, and slowly slid most of the way out of Yami and then back in, groaning softly the whole time, and hazily Yami realized that Marik’s positioning made it very likely for him to currently be inside Bakura.

No wonder Bakura was biting his lip like that.

Yami was almost jealous, but the feeling was soon lost on him. Buried beneath waves of pleasure. Pushed away by Bakura’s lips on his.

Just like the last time, it took several hours for them to finish with him. And, just like last time, when the time came that they _were_ done, they all collapsed to the ground and got cozy.

When he finally regained the ability to speak, Yami uttered, “You know, if they _do_ find out that we fucked, we can probably just use the excuse of not having done anything for three years.” He yawned, then, and continued drawing circles on Bakura’s chest.

“Mm, yeah.” Marik agreed. “I mean… I doubt Malik’s kept it in his pants the whole time.”

“This might surprise you guys,” Bakura yawned, “But if Ryou’s still alive, I don’t think he would have made it more than a month without actively seeking out dick.”

The two of them snickered, though Marik almost sounded hesitant.

“I wonder if he went to Malik.” The Egyptian mused.

“It would make sense if he did.” Bakura shrugged. “He told me he thought you guys were attractive. He kinda wanted to fuck you.”

“... Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit.”

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…” Yami’s lips twitched. “I don’t doubt that Yugi and Ryou have probably fucked by now, too, if Ryou’s still alive.”

Seemed that gave Bakura an idea, if the sudden smirk on his face was anything to go by. And before either Yami or Marik could say anything about it, he snickered and said, “Okay, but hear me out on this.” They hummed to show they were doing exactly that. “Our disappearing was probably hard on their mental states, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well seeing as Ryou was already pretty fucked up to begin with, that probably snapped him, but like… Imagine the kind of kinky shit those three are probably into now.”

Marik laughed. “Oh, I don’t really think Malik could get much kinkier than I already made him.”

“You didn’t even _try_ to conceal anything from him, did you?” Yami asked incredulously.

“Never told him who I was or where I was from, but that’s about all I hid.” Marik shrugged. “And why would I need to hide my kinks from a kid I was originally just using for sex, anyway?”

“Fair point, I guess.”

“Granted, he picked up on the whole ‘kinky’ part of it pretty quick. Found out the third or fourth time that he actually _liked_ being fucked until he cried.”

“Kinky.” Bakura noted. “So he liked most of the shit you do from the start?”

“Not the first time.” Marik clarified. “He wasn’t happy about that one. At all. He only came because I’m good.”

“Can’t argue that one.” Yami snorted.

“Oh, hush, Pharaoh. You just like getting a cock shoved in your ass.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

And they laid there and bickered back and forth for a few hours before each of them, in turn, began to fall asleep.


	25. Pegasus

“You sure you’re ready for this, Yugi?” Atem shifted, holding tightly to the boat’s railing.

“Atem, I’m a mob boss, not a child.” Yugi scowled, but Atem knew most of his irritation was due to the boat ride much more so than himself… Though Yugi was definitely angry at him, too. “Of course I’m ready.”

“We might die.” Atem reminded him.

“If we do, the Bandit King will go after him.” Yugi shrugged at him, expression only darkening. “And we both know he won’t stand a chance against that psycho.”

Atem sighed. “Stop looking at me like that.” He turned his gaze to the waves and shifted again.

Yugi said nothing and only continued to scowl at him.

“Please?”

Yugi huffed, that time, and directed his glare at the water instead. After a few moments, his expression softened and he glanced back up at Atem. There was the expression he’d been trying to mask - that sad one that Atem hated seeing even more than he hated Shadow Magic. He frowned slightly and reached out, cupping Yugi’s cheek gently.

“Stop it. We’ll find him.”

Yugi’s lips twitched.

Arriving at the docks was a very similar experience to the last time. They stalled there with an almighty lurch that was almost enough to make  _ him _ want to lose his lunch, and when they disembarked the same man was standing there, waiting for them. Atem’s mind started racing, because they needed to have a plan in mind before they met Pegasus and his dumb ass had forgotten to formulate one prior to leaving.

Yugi’s hand brushed his, eyes telling him, “Calm down.” He did his best to comply while the man led them off toward the mansion without a word.

“Do you have your mental guard up?” He breathed to him.

Yugi nodded mutely and Atem took some small comfort in that.

“Well, well, well.” Pegasus said as they entered. “What have we here?” When his eye fell on Yugi, it widened.

“Just stopping in for a friendly visit,” The younger man smiled sweetly. “Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Pegasus.”

Atem was both impressed and scared by how easily Yugi managed to act like his old self. “Mr. Pegasus,” He said, “I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine… Yugi Muto. The Pharaoh.”

Pegasus visibly paled, then. Atem could almost see the wheels turning in the man’s head. Trying to figure out why he didn’t hate Yugi now that he knew the truth, no doubt. If only Pegasus would have planned for him not letting his morals stand in the way of getting his brother back.

Oh, well. It was Pegasus’ loss.

And that was the last thought he had before everything went black.

“‘Tem!” Yugi’s eyes widened as the man crumpled to the ground without explanation, and then they narrowed again, all pretenses of sweetness dropping when his gaze turned back to Pegasus. “Bad move, old man.” He said calmly as he dropped his duffle bag to the floor and knelt next to it. He  _ knew _ Atem had slipped it in here…

There it was.

He put the Puzzle’s chain around his neck before he straightened up and faced Pegasus again. “I don’t take kindly to my friends being knocked out by rich pricks who think they’re all that.”

“You’re one to talk about rich pricks, Pharaoh.” Pegasus managed to seem unshaken, but the sight of the Puzzle around his neck was intimidating. He was dangerous enough without it, but with it…

“Oh, hush. You know, I think this warrants a Shadow Game, don’t you?” As he said it, he reached back about six years into his past to remember what he needed to do to initiate one. The Eye of Horus on the Puzzle flashed. The room bathed itself in shadows. “But what game shall we play?” He cocked his head to the side.

Even after only having visited it once or twice, he knew the Shadow Realm when he saw it. He knew it like the back of his hand, suddenly, and knew that if he tried to leave this particular pocket of it at the moment he’d just emerge back inside it. He also knew that Atem had not come with them - his body laid just outside the range of this little pocketful of darkness.

“And what shall the Penalty be?” He asked when the thought came to him.

Pegasus seemed uneasy, but that question prompted him into action. “The loser has to give up their Millennium Item and impart piece of very valuable information to the winner. And they cannot lie.” He suggested. He knew both of them would benefit from such a Penalty in the event of their winning. Now all he had to do was hope that Yugi would go along with it.

He had much more experience with Shadow games than Yugi did. More experience with Shadow Magic. He could undoubtedly win this, no matter what game Yugi chose.

Yugi considered the suggestion before nodding. “That sounds fair enough. And as for the game…” He smirked. “I believe you’ll be quite familiar with the one I picked.”

A table appeared in front of them with an all-too familiar pair of mats laid on it.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Pegasus chuckled as he took a seat. “Duel Monsters. I’m  _ very _ familiar with it.”

Yugi snickered and sat down as well. He knew the rules of reality were different in the Shadow Realm - beneficial for him, seeing as his dueling deck was currently sitting in a locked box at his house. He held his hand out over the deck space and watched, both satisfied and relieved, as it appeared there. Pegasus seemed vaguely impressed as he did the same.

“I did not know you were so handy with Shadow Magic, Yugi-boy.” He smirked over the table at him. “The last intelligence I received said that you were quite useless with it, actually.”

Yugi rolled his eyes as he began drawing cards. “I don’t use it. I see no reason to. I assume you’ve been told that the Bandit King and his men are quite adept with it?”

“Indeed.” Pegasus drew some as well. “The best the world’s seen in a while, actually.”

Yugi nodded. “Well at least you have accurate information on one of us.” He sat back and examined his hand. “Any special rules?”

“Hmm… Neither of us can use our Items to influence the duel.” Pegasus decided.

“Fair enough. We each start with 8000 lifepoints.” Yugi declared. Two small display screens formed at their right hands, in the corners of the table. After a moment or two, the screens flashed, red lines flickering until they formed the number he’d set, displaying it twice with their names written above one or the other. “The first move is yours, Pegasus.”

“Why thank you, my dear Pharaoh.” Pegasus chuckled. He looked through his hand for a moment before making a decision. He laid down a card. “I summon the Dark Rabbit, in Attack mode.” He smiled as a small avatar of the monster appeared above its card. “And I end my turn.”

Yugi considered it. The Dark Rabbit was a level four monster, with an attack power of 1100. In his hand, he currently had nothing capable of beating that. Oh, well. He drew a card - what luck. He’d drawn exactly the card he needed right now. “I play Gazelle, the King of Mythical Beasts, in Attack mode.” The beast appeared. Pegasus nodded grimly, already anticipating the next few words. “And I attack your Dark Rabbit.”

Gazelle lept across the field and closed his wide jaws around the Dark Rabbit’s throat. With a squeal, the hare disintegrated and Pegasus flinched. The display of his lifepoints ticked down to 7600 due to the 400 point difference between Gazelle’s attack power and Dark Rabbit’s.

“I end my turn.” Yugi said, unable to prevent the smug smirk that tugged at his lips.

They continued like this for quite some time, though each and every round they ended up thwarting each other’s plans at every opportunity. Pegasus would summon a low level monster, and smelling a rat, Yugi would destroy it with whatever monster he had on the field. In turn, Pegasus would lay traps to discourage him from such risky moves. Both of their lifepoints dropped periodically, from battle, from spells, from traps.

It was a long and harrowing duel, and when Pegasus finally managed to summon two very particular monsters to the field, he began to laugh. Yugi scowled.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because, my dear Pharaoh, I’ve just done everything I need to do.” He smirked. “I play the Spell card, Polymerization, to combine my Thousand-Eyes Idol and Relinquished to summon the Thousand-Eyes Restrict!”

When it appeared, Yugi’s urge to sneer was somewhat overwhelmed by his urge to cringe. He pushed both down, the first because he knew he shouldn’t underestimate one of Pegasus’ beasts and the second because he couldn’t afford to appear weak. The Thousand-Eyes Restrict was still strangely disconcerting to him, though, and he guessed it was probably because of all the eyes protruding from its body.

But it didn’t have any attack  _ or _ defense points, for fuck’s sake. What was it gonna do? Stare him to death?

He wouldn’t put it past Pegasus to create something like that, really. The man was twisted, that was for damn sure. And as far as Yugi knew he’d always been that way. Ever since he’d come into the limelight so long ago as the creator of Duel Monsters and then faded away behind the name of his company.

… Yugi revelled in the fact that no one was simply worried about the Immortals taking them down - they were worried that the Pharaoh would get involved. He wasn’t synonymous with his men. His companies. He was a threat all by himself while Pegasus was merely the faceless figurehead of his so-called “company”.

At least people remembered Yugi’s name, whether it was simply his title or not.

He raised an eyebrow at Pegasus, who had remained quiet for the time being.

“Oh, don’t mind me.” Pegasus chuckled. “I was simply waiting for a response of some kind.”

“Were you expecting me to scream?” Yugi sneered. “Sure, it’s ugly, but I’m not sure I’m intimidated just yet.”

“You will be...” Pegasus grinned. “When I use the Thousand-Eyes Restrict’s special ability to absorb your Feral Imp.”

It was difficult for the Pharaoh to bite back his urge to curse aloud while the Thousand-Eyes Restrict’s attack and defense points ticked up to 1300/1400. “I should have known.” He sighed, instead.

All he received was a chuckle, followed by, “And if you attack, your Feral Imp will be destroyed and  _ you _ will take the damage.”

Again, he had to fight back a curse. He glanced at his lifepoint counter - only 900. Pegasus had 700. His eyes flicked to his hand rather numbly while Pegasus chuckled again and ended his turn. Did he have anything that could destroy the Feral Imp  _ and _ the Thousand-Eyes Restrict? Without wiping himself out in the process?

Sure, he had his Dark Magician, but it would require two sacrifices and it would lose him the duel if he attacked with it. He also had the Celtic Guardian and the Blackland Fire Dragon, which would do significantly less damage but could take out the Feral Imp… It was only a matter of picking which one.

But what if he didn’t have to choose? All he had to do was have a plan… And oh boy did he. “I place one card face down.” He announced, doing so, “And summon the Celtic Guardian in Attack mode.” He waited a moment for it to appear above its card. “Celtic Guardian, attack!”

It charged across the field. Yugi found himself cringing, of course, when his lifepoints ticked down 100 points, but smiling triumphantly.

“I end my turn.”

As he’d anticipated, Pegasus used his next turn to absorb the Celtic Guardian. He bit his lip as he placed his next card. “I summon the Blackland Fire Dragon, in Attack mode… And I use the Spell card, Swords of Revealing Light, to freeze your Thousand-Eyes Restrict for the next three turns.” He flipped the facedown, revealing it to be the Spell card, triumphant smile returning when Pegasus paled and then growled. “I end.”

Pegasus scowled at him. “There’s not much I can do about that.” He muttered. “I pass.”

Yugi couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, even as he actively began to concentrate on trying to draw the card he needed.  _ Please. _ He thought.  _ Please just let me draw the Silent Swordsman Level Five. I  _ **_need_ ** _ to draw it. I have to. I will. I  _ **_will_ ** _.  _ He grabbed the top card off his deck and placed it in his hand, face lighting up further. “Perfect.” He said. “I tribute the Blackland Fire Dragon in order to summon the Silent Swordsman in Attack mode!”

Pegasus paled again while Yugi cheerily removed his dragon from the field, placing it in the Graveyard, and sat the Soldier in its place.

“And now, my friend, I’ll use the Silent Swordsman to attack you directly.” He grinned. The Swordsman charged. Pegasus’ lifepoints dropped to 0. “You lose, Pegasus.”

The Shadow Realm faded away around them as Yugi stood up from the table. Pegasus dropped to his knees. “I… I lost. This can’t be…”

“Clearly it can.” Yugi waited for the table to dissipate between them before approaching and kneeling before the older man. “Too bad, I guess. Now… Where is Noa?”

“You ask about him and not your darling Yami?” Pegasus raised an eyebrow, though the smug amusement in his voice was not mirrored in his emotionless eye.

“They’re in the same place, I’m sure.” Yugi chuckled. “And I only came here to help Atem on his job, regardless.”

Pegasus sighed and directed his eye back to the floor, tendrils of darkness beginning to wind around his legs. “An island.” He said, “Nearby.” The tendrils retreated slightly. “I can give you a map.”

“Lovely.” Yugi almost got up, then remembered the rest of the Penalty. “Ah, I almost forgot…” He reached forward.

Pegasus clenched his jaw and squeezed his real eye shut. He knew what was coming. Yugi’s fingers dug into the other socket, blood blooming around the golden orb that resided there. He had to try very hard not to grin at the sight… Even as the Pharaoh, that wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a lunatic like Ryou. It wasn’t right for him to get a kick out of the sight of blood.

He maneuvered his fingers around, twisting, pressing, clawing until he closed two of them and his thumb around the slippery prize and pulled it from the warm socket. The crimson liquid poured forth now that it was unhindered, and rather than watching it Yugi chose to examine the Eye. The gold was dull, clearly neglected for a great deal of time. He hadn’t shined it, polished it, even wiped it off. Dust had collected in the crevices.

He hummed and wiped the blood off on the hem of his shirt. The gold glimmered where it had been.

“You’ll want to seek medical attention.” He smiled as his gaze returned to Pegasus’ face.

The man nodded numbly, hand fumbling for his phone. Yugi observed him for a moment. He knew the look on Pegasus’ face. It was the look of a broken man, someone who had nothing left to live for. Had taking the Eye and beating him really done such a number on him?

“Tell me, Pegasus… What do you want most?” He found himself asking. Ah, there he was. There was the businessman he pretended to be. The mob boss. Calm and collected and all too ready to strike a deal with his enemy.

That brought a weak smile to the man’s face while he typed out a message on his phone and sent it. “You would laugh, I believe.”

“I might.” Yugi smirked.

Pegasus hesitated before looking up at him. “I just want to find peace with my love, really. But I don’t have that option, especially not now.”

“Your love?”

“... Dartz.” He sighed. “You’ll face him eventually, if you continue on the way you are now. I know he won’t give up the plan, even for me. He’d rather abandon me than turn traitor on our boss… Not that I blame him.”

Yugi hummed. How could he, the Pharaoh, a man who was only doing everything he did out of love, torment a man who was doing the same thing? He made a decision. “I’ll spare him for you.” He said, “Knowing that you love him…” He shook his head. “That’s not the kind of man I am, Pegasus. I do enjoy tormenting others, but I won’t do something like that.”

Tears bloomed in Pegasus’ eye. “You are a far better man than I am, then.”

“I do want something in return, though - I’m sure you were anticipating that.”

“But of course.” Pegasus wiped the tears away before they could fall. “What is it?”

“Lend me some of your men.”

“I will do what I can.”

“Good.”

The door opened, then, and in walked Kemo. “Sir?”

“Ah, there you are.” He leaned around Yugi to see him better. “I’m afraid I require some serious first aid.”

Kemo visibly paled at the sight of Pegasus’ bleeding, empty socket. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

Yugi got up and got out of the man’s way as he approached, heading over to where Atem still lay prone on the floor. He nudged him with his foot. “Pegasus?”

“Yes?”

“Is he going to wake up any time soon?”

“Within an hour, I believe.”

“Perfect.”

He wondered, briefly, if he had the physical strength to lift Atem up and carry him back to the boat… He highly doubted it. He may have gotten stronger over the past three years, but Atem was still at least 50 pounds heavier than he was. It wasn’t likely that that would be happening.

He supposed he could wait for Atem to wake up, but that would be imposing on Pegasus’ misery and he preferred to leave people to suffer on their own.

Thankfully, Pegasus saved him the trouble.

“Kemo, have someone carry the Bounty Hunter out.” He said weakly. “I believe the Pharaoh would like to leave.”

“Yes, sir.”

Moments later, another guard entered the room and picked Atem up from the floor. “Where am I taking him, sir?”

“Just follow the Pharaoh.”

The guard looked to him, tilting his head. Yugi pushed off the wall he’d chosen to lean on and made his way back to the boat, though he wasn’t entirely sure how he knew the way. He didn’t exactly remember the route or anything.

… Or did he?

He shook his head to clear it as he walked up the boarding plank, glancing back to make sure the guard was keeping up with him. He was only a step or two behind him, barely hindered by the man in his arms. Yugi hoped he’d be getting him as a troop - he was strong.

Down the stairs, turn left, and there was the cot. Lovely, he’d remembered where it was. “Just lay him down, if you please.”

The guard carefully laid Atem on the bed, saluted him, and marched back off the boat.

Oh, yes, he’d be a great troop to have.

* * *

 

“Pegasus has been defeated.”

Dartz still wasn’t sure he believed it. Pegasus? Defeated? It just didn’t seem real. Pegasus never lost. He was a  _ master _ of Shadow Games.

Those words didn’t even belong in the same sentence, “Pegasus has been defeated.”

It just… It wasn’t right. His Pegasus didn’t lose. He didn’t. It was just so  _ wrong _ to hear he’d lost.

“Defeated?” He’d asked. “By who?”

“That meddling Pharaoh.” His boss had replied, voice little more than a deep growl.

He was angry about that, of course, but he wasn’t going to do anything. Not yet. Chances were that the Pharaoh hadn’t hurt him at all - he may have been a gangster, but Dartz knew he had a reputation for being mostly nonviolent. He only brought death down on the heads of those who deserved it. Pain to those who were irritating enough to make him sadistic.

But still. He’d defeated Pegasus. He was the first… Only their boss was supposed to be stronger than Pegasus. Only that dark entity was supposed to be able to defeat him.

_ What if he killed him? _ A nagging voice in the back of his head murmured.  _ What if he got tired of him and killed him? _ He tried to quiet that voice, but he already knew it would be nearly impossible to do so without Pegasus with him.  _ Or what if the Pharaoh did? What if he made the Pharaoh angry enough to kill him? _

Dartz slid down the wall to the floor, brought his knees to his chest, covered his ears, and buried his face in his legs. He could feel himself cracking. He folded himself further - maybe if he curled up tight enough he could hold his jagged pieces together.


	26. One Last Day

The Pharaoh still hadn’t quite gotten used to having possession of the Eye. Still hadn’t gotten used to the feel of it between his fingers, the glimmering gold that caught the light and danced the yellow glow around every room he was in. Sure, the Puzzle did the same thing, but the Eye was different. It was small and yet it cast a glow so much brighter than that of the Puzzle.

He guessed it was probably because, while Pegasus was undoubtedly evil, and whoever had had the Eye before him likely was too, they were nothing in comparison to the Pharaoh who’d once held the Puzzle, or to Yami or Atem. Pegasus had a good reason for being an asshole, Yugi’d learned, but Yami simply enjoyed the suffering of others and Atem wasn’t one to let his morals stand in the way of his Penalty games. He knew that the shadows on one’s soul clung to the Items long after the owner was gone.

He wondered, idly, how much more darkness he’d bring to the Puzzle and how long his presence would cling to it.

And would his ownership dim the Eye as much as Yami and Atem had dimmed the Puzzle?

It was hard telling. He turned the Eye in his fingers again, watching it shimmer in the afternoon sun. Dust still sat in the design, but he was too lazy to carefully dig it out, bit by bit by bit. He’d go crazy long before it was completely clean.

He hummed and tucked the Eye into one of his pockets. Footsteps sounded behind him, the first set soft and easily missed if one didn’t listen close enough - that would be Ryou. He was followed by two sets of louder steps - likely Malik and Seto.

“What’re you doing?” Ryou’s pleasant lilt was actually a bit of a relief to him.

“Getting some fresh air.” Yugi rolled his eyes as he turned to look at him. “I haven’t been outside in days.”

_Not since me and ‘Tem got back from Pegasus’ island._

“So you went to the roof?” Malik asked incredulously.

“Maybe I wanted to watch our men work while I took some time to breathe.” Yugi retorted, sticking his tongue out. “Why does it matter, anyway?”

“You sort of just disappeared on us.” Ryou shrugged as he took up a position next to him, gazing down at the streets. “Believe it or not, we were worried.”

“And I have a hard time believing you just wanted fresh air.” Malik leaned next to him. “What did you really come up here for?”

“Would you believe me if I said ‘peace’?”

Both of them snorted, while Seto leaned against the wall next to the door.

He sighed. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” He leaned against the rails again and gazed down at the teeming masses of troops. They’d long since moved to the actual hostile takeover part of the plan. He’d already finished his part - he’d been finished since before he took the Eye. It hadn’t taken long to buy out all the companies he needed to in order to create civil unrest and now everything was up to Malik, Spectre, Joey, and Zen.

And, sure, Ryou had a part too, but it wasn’t like he really needed to tell his troops what they already knew. The Bandits always knew what they were supposed to be doing. They never had to be reminded of their orders - Yugi guessed they just had a stronger work ethic than the Immortals or the Ghouls.

Either that, or they actually _wanted_ to do what they were doing. Yugi wouldn’t be surprised. The Bandits seemed like they were all pretty much ruthless psychopaths with a collective agenda. If Ryou gave them an order as destructive as the one they were currently under (that being, of course, “Help the others take over Domino and the surrounding farms. If you encounter opposition… End it.”), they would not hesitate to follow it. And they’d grin the whole time.

Aside from the differing outfits, it was easy to spot a Bandit just from those smiles.

Well… Aside from one or two of them. Camille and Vanilla, for example, tended to stay on the sidelines and take care of injuries. They worked well with Aura and Ether, two of Malik’s healers, and Nao and Kimiko, two of his own more skilled medics.

Speaking of his own men along with those of his friends however, he did wonder what exactly their Lieutenants had gotten themselves into over the past couple of weeks. They were no longer obligated to report in every time they did something important and as far as any of them knew Joey hadn’t even been back to Kaiba Mansion since he’d left on his newest assignment.

Dimly, Yugi hoped that he was alright.

He’d be sad if he lost Joey. It was doubtful, however, that Ryou and Malik would be quite as affected by the losses of Zen or Spectre. That was… Almost sad, really.

* * *

On the East side of Domino, the very three he wondered about had set up a temporary base of operations together. Unintentionally, they’d set up a rather rudimentary hierarchy for the time being, as well.

Joey, who they knew as Bruiser just as everyone else did, was their leader. He liked that, but he refused to admit it. No use letting the power go to his head when it would be over very soon - hopefully.

Spectre had conceded the second-in-command position to Zen, less out of a desire to not be in power and moreso because Zen was taller and more intimidating than he was. If Joey didn’t know better, he’d have assumed that Spectre, himself, was intimidated by the Bandit.

He was sure that wasn’t the case, but maybe it was.

It wasn’t like it mattered, really, but Joey really just needed something to distract himself while they weren’t working. After all, there was only so much they could do in terms of advancing their mission per day and usually they got everything done quickly. You could say anything you wanted about them, Joey thought, but saying that they were slow and didn’t work well together was a blatant lie.

And while they worked well together, he wasn’t exactly sure that that sense of close-knit teamwork extended outside of their mission.

It was hard to tell, seeing as Spectre was a very quiet guy and Zen was almost never around.

He heaved a sigh and looked out the window, frowning. Spectre looked to him, almost surprised. Maybe he’d forgotten that he was there… It seemed likely. He wasn’t always a loud obnoxious idiot, after all, though he was sure Spectre and Zen both thought he was.

Spectre frowned, after a moment. “Something on your mind?”

“There’s lotsa things on my mind.” Joey grunted.

“Anything in particular that’s bothering you? Your aura seems… Muted.”

“I thought you were a telekinetic.” Joey narrowed his eyes at him.

“I am, but I also see auras.” Spectre waved a hand. “Yours is gold, usually a lot brighter too. Sparkly and shit.” He made a ‘come here’ motion with his finger at a teacup, which floated up off the table to and to his hand. “Right now it’s kind of a dull brown.” He took a sip, then said, “You never answered my question.”

“How perceptive of you.” Joey muttered, then sighed. “Honestly I dunno, though. I’m sure somethin’ _is_ botherin’ me but mostly I’m just bored. I don’t like sittin’ still. ‘Specially not when I’m stuck in a fucking _shack_ with two people I barely know.”

“You’re more than free to leave.” Spectre’s eyebrows knitted together. “So why not go if you hate it here so much?”

“Cuz if I go home I won’t come back here.” He couldn’t help being honest. What was the point in lying about it. “Sappy as it is I’d really rather be curled up with my man than be doing any of this shit.”

For the first time, he saw the other man’s lips twitch upwards. “Believe me, I know the feeling.”

He regarded him for a moment. “Yer gay too?”

“Bisexual.” Spectre shrugged. “But currently committed to a man, so…”

He nodded in acknowledgement, directing his gaze back out the window. Conversation was nice, but he couldn’t think of anything else to talk about.

Well… That wasn’t strictly true. He could easily continue the conversation for a couple of seconds by asking who Spectre was banging - not that he was likely to get an answer. But, no, he wouldn’t ask a question like that. If Spectre wanted the conversation to head to that area, he could get it there himself.

It was silent. Joey could almost hear the wheels turning in the other’s head.

“Who are you with?” The man eventually sighed, clearly resigning himself to the question.

Joey almost let himself look surprised. Instead he raised a brow. “Why do you ask?”

“Boredom.” He shrugged. “And curiosity.”

“Fair enough.” He looked back out the window, swallowed, and said, “And it’s Seto Kaiba.”

Spectre spat out his tea.

* * *

“Yugi~!” Ryou waved a hand in front of his face, “Earth to Yugi! Hey, you in there, mate?”

He swatted the thin man’s hand and looked at him. “What is it?”

“Looks like Atem’s here.” Ryou chuckled. “And you’ve been spaced out for like 10 minutes.”

“Whoops.” Yugi muttered without much remorse, turning toward the stairs. “Bottom of the building?”

“Yeah.”

Malik and Seto were mysteriously absent now, he noted. He’d risk a guess in saying they were probably headed to meet Atem downstairs. After all, it would be rude of Seto not to greet a guest at his tower and Malik had probably wanted to make sure Atem had done his job.

He was, after all, supposed to be bringing Noa.

Or, maybe, Malik had gone to get Atem and bring him up and Seto had gone to get Mokuba and make sure he was there to meet Noa. That seemed just as likely, if not more so. But he really shouldn’t get too distracted. Spacing out now wouldn’t really do him any good.

Atem emerged from the doorway a moment or two later. In tow was a young man with mint green hair. Malik was behind the boy, watching him like a hawk. What had him looking so suspicious, Yugi wondered? Why was he staring at the kid like he was a dangerous criminal?

Eh.

Malik probably just didn’t like new people.

“Hey,” Atem grinned at Yugi.

“Hey.” He smiled back as the taller male took his place beside him and wrapped his arm around his waist. “That’s him?” He asked.

“Yep. Noa, this is the Pharaoh.”

Noa paled slightly and bowed his head. “Hello.”

“Hello. Don’t look so worried - it’s the Bandit and Phantom Kings you should be scared of. I’m just a simple businessman.”

A weak smile was Noa’s response.

“Speaking of them…” Atem looked to Yugi.

“Oh, yes, of course. You haven’t been told yet…” He looked to Ryou with a smile.

Ryou’s lips split into a grin as he bowed to Atem and Noa, “The Bandit King, at your service.”

Atem’s jaw hit the floor and Noa merely raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” He said, “But you don’t look like anything I should be worrying about, sir.”

Ryou gave him a smile, and in turn Malik gave the young man a sympathetic look. “Oh, I get that a lot.” He lilted pleasantly, “But you’ll learn soon enough.”

“For your sake,” Malik said, “I hope you don’t have to learn.”

Noa hummed.

“... And the Phantom King?” Atem eventually asked.

“That would be yours truly.” Malik seemed disinterested in the whole situation, now, picking at some black nail polish on his middle finger. “I don’t exactly make people quiver in their boots either, I know.”

Noa shifted. “I dunno. I find you very intimidating. And now that I’ve been around the Bandit King for a while he’s starting to get somewhat unnerving.”

“It’s the smile, isn’t it?” Ryou asked with mock sympathy, “It’s always the smile.”

“It’s more the eyes,” Noa said, “They remind me of someone I met while I was on the island…”

Ryou cocked his head to the side. “Oh?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah. He had hair like yours, too. Super rude.”

Yugi stiffened up a bit. Eyes and hair like Ryou’s? Rude? That had to be Bakura. And, apparently, Ryou had the same thought, because his narrowed brown eyes had widened and turned bright green. He’d noticed that happened every once in a while - who knew why. A grin split the pale man’s face.

“I know him.” He informed the boy, “In fact, I’ve been looking for him. Do you know if he’s still on that island?”

“He might be.” Noa shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since he first got there three years ago. He almost bit me for asking what was wrong.”

If Ryou’s grin could have grown, Yugi had no doubt that it would have. The boy didn’t seem particularly thrilled about the change in expression, but he did look somewhat less scared of it. Well, Ryou _was_ in a much better mood now. It would be safe enough not to be afraid of him for the time being.

He didn’t get to ruminate on it for long. In fact, as soon as he began to, Seto emerged at the top of the stairs with a clearly uncomfortable Mokuba. They were muttering quietly to each other. Mokuba’s eyes landed on Noa, however, and widened immediately.

“You’re…”

Noa grew uncomfortable quickly. “I’m what? Is there something on my face?”

Mokuba shook his head. “Noa. I… I didn’t really think they’d find you.”

Noa’s eyebrows furrowed. “Who are you?”

“Well, Noa…” Atem said, patting his shoulder, “These are the boys your father adopted after you disappeared.”

His eyes widened. “So they’re… They’re like my brothers, right?”

Atem, Mokuba, and Seto all nodded.

“Well damn, that sucks.” And before they could ask him why that was, he winked at Mokuba. “Cuz you’re cute.”

Mokuba turned beet red. Noa chuckled softly, cheeks tinting red. Yugi cast a glance at Seto to see how he’d taken the comment, only to find the man valiantly suppressing a smile. He quirked a brow at him, causing Seto’s lips to press closer together in their attempt not to curve upwards. After a moment, the man mouthed, “Mokes has never blushed like that before.”

Yugi couldn’t help smiling in reply and mouthing back, “I ship it.”

Seto’s attempts not to smile were dashed, then, as a laugh accompanied a distinct upward pull of his lips.

This was nice, Yugi thought. This was really nice. Maybe meetings like this could continue after they found Yami and the others? He’d like that. That would be nice. He snuggled a little closer to Atem’s side and thought about it.

Ryou curled up next to Bakura, brown eyes wide and sweet, a gentle smile on his face while he softly chided Bakura for being so rude. Bakura would roll his eyes, of course, because that was what he did. And Malik and Marik would be quietly arguing off in the corner, Seto would have his arm around Joey and honestly Mokuba and Noa would probably sit on the floor together and talk. And talk. And talk. And he would have a little bit of trouble figuring out who exactly he wanted to cuddle up with. If he was lucky, he could cuddle both of the men he loved.

How would Yami feel about that suggestion, he wondered?

“You still in there, daw’ qalil?” Atem murmured softly.

He must have spaced out again. Damn. He nodded up at him. “Did I miss something?” He murmured back.

“No, but you were getting this far-off look in your eyes.”

“I’ve been spacing out a lot lately.” He shrugged as he laid his head against the man’s shoulder.

He still found it unspeakably disconcerting that he was tall enough to do that. Atem had _always_ been a lot taller than him but now suddenly they were almost the same height. He wondered if Atem thought it was kinda freaky, too. Probably not - Atem took most of these kinds of things in stride.

“That’s not good.” The man frowned at him. “You need to focus.”

“I know that.” Yugi frowned right back at him. “But most of the time I focus too hard and end up in my own little world.”

He got a hum in reply, Atem’s attention turning toward the others again. It was quiet for a moment before a thought came to him. Or, rather, it surfaced. He wasn’t sure if it had been there before, but now that it was... Well, it was certainly interesting to think about.

He’d have to bring it up the next time he and the other Kings were alone. It would be rather awkward subject matter to broach around the Kaibas and Atem - at least it would be awkward for him to talk about in their presence and they would probably be uncomfortable hearing him talk about it. And Atem would probably be even _more_ uncomfortable.

He snuggled a little closer, though he wasn’t sure how it was possible to get any closer to the man next to him when he was already nearly skin to skin with him, and contented himself with staring past Noa Kaiba’s head into the distance.

In his distraction, he of course did not see Noa ruthlessly flirting with and flustering poor Mokuba. But Ryou did, and Ryou had a hay day watching the boys interact.

Then again, he was a sadist and it was fun to watch other people suffer the way that Mokuba was. His face was bright red and his fists were clenching at his sides and honestly it was kind of cute. Ryou almost laughed aloud at the thought - since when did he think it was _cute_ when others suffered?

 _Since we started getting more and more in sync because of that damned ring._ Green eyes supplied lazily, _I’d say I’m sorry you got my weird opinion on the suffering of others but we both know that I’m not._

 _Aint that the damn truth_. And before he really notices his attention shifting away from the adorable display of embarrassment, his gaze is on Yugi and Atem. Yugi’s got that faraway look in his eyes again, and Atem is almost mirroring it, except Yugi’s looking past the Kaiba brothers and Atem’s staring right at the man next to him.

Atem’s lips part once, then slide closed again. A few moments later, he opened his mouth again, only to click it closed. He frowned, that time, and moved his gaze away from Yugi to glare slightly out at the city. Ryou could almost see the wheels turning in his tanned head.

“Yugi,” The man eventually murmured, giving him a soft nudge.

“Mm?” Yugi’s attention snapped to him immediately. A soft nudge was all he needed. His attention hadn’t been _that_ far away, in that case, because to Ryou’s knowledge it usually took at least three or four rough, sharp slaps and even then it was only through snapping in front of his face a little bit that you could fully get his attention back on you.

“I need to talk to you about something. You willing to listen?”

“Mhm.”

Ah. His attention was still somewhere else, at least a little bit. He wasn’t speaking.

“Good.”

And Ryou stopped paying attention because suddenly he was painfully aware of Malik standing next to him.

And while Yugi listened, trying to bring his mind into the real world, Atem explained strange dreams he’d been having as of late. Dreams of Egypt. Of a palace and a meeting with the Thief King in the middle of the desert.

Yugi didn’t have the heart to tell him that they probably weren’t dreams.

Even if he could have said it, his throat had closed up again and he was pretty much helpless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is nearing its end, folks. Only one or two more updates remaining, depending on what schedule I choose to use.  
> Thanks for being along for the ride thus far.


	27. Storming The Castle

“You’re _really_ sure about this?” Ryou asked, quirking his brow at Atem.

“Yes, absolutely.” The Egyptian replied. “I don’t know where exactly they are on this island, but I know they’re on this island.”

Ryou looked like he wanted to continue asking, because he obviously wasn’t so sure himself, but he chose to close his mouth instead. Probably a good idea. Atem wasn’t looking so charitable today. He seemed on edge. Angry. Was it because they were so close to finding Yami, but simultaneously so far away?

Ryou knew that was why _he_ was irritated today. He wasn’t sure if he and Atem were enough alike to be angry about the same thing, though. Didn’t think they were, but couldn’t be entirely sure without extensive questioning that neither of them probably had the patience for. That Ryou definitely didn’t have the patience for.

He turned his eyes to Yugi, instead, wanting to quip the man’s lack of tenseness, his expensive suit, _anything_ he could quip, but finding nothing that would actually sting. He must have lost his edge.

 _Or maybe we’re just learning to play nice._ Green-eyes suggested. He sounded like the idea made him physically sick.

Ryou could relate.

“Well, how do you suggest we find them, then?” Malik broke the silence.

His shoulders were set, back straight, head high. He was really looking awfully kingly today. It was cute. Cute and sexy. Ryou knew already that he didn’t quite look the part himself - he was wearing his coat, a pair of skinny jeans, and no shirt with the Ring hanging in front of his chest. He was slumped forward slightly, as well. No posture. And don’t even get him started on his _hair_ , put up at the crown of his head in a bun that he’d been too lazy to actually make neat by any stretch of the word. He’d just wanted it off his neck and out of the way. And Yugi was dressed just like he always was, with his usual posture and outward attitude and Ryou kind of wondered how hard it was to keep up such a consistent image.

 _Impossible, for us._ Green-eyes muttered unhelpfully. _We’re too spastic._

_Well no shit._

“We have Ryou here.” Atem shrugged. “And we have Viper, too. Between the two of them we’ve gotta track them down eventually, especially with the rest of us here.”

Malik hummed.

 _Why didn’t I think of that?_ Ryou nearly smacked himself.

 _We were too busy hating ourselves to come up with anything._ Green-eyes replied with a sigh.

_Oh. Yeah._

Feeling their eyes on him, he shrugged. “I guess it’s worth a shot.” He concentrated a bit, reaching back for the traces of Yami’s presence he could scrounge from his memory, stealing them away from the Puzzle for good measure, and then branched out… Only to be met with a mental slap to the face and a metaphorical brick wall. He flinched and opened his eyes. “Something’s blocking me. Viper, you give it a shot.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He flinched as well after a moment and shook his head. “No good. Looks like we’re searching on foot, eh, boss?”

“Looks like it. Good thing we were smart enough to bring plenty of troops, eh?” He looked to the others.

“I guess.” Yugi huffed. “We’d better split up. Cover more ground. Atem, you’re with me.”

The man nodded as Yugi began giving out orders to their troops about who should go which way, how long they should stay together, yadda yadda yadda. As soon as they’d received full orders, each and every one of their men headed off to search. When they’d all gone, he rounded on Ryou and Malik. “And you two, figure out what you’re doing and do it.”

Ryou felt something stir a bit at the authority. He didn’t really like Yugi actually taking advantage of his power over he and Malik. After all, hadn’t he just been submitting to him on his own throne a few weeks before? He scowled. “I’ll be going by myself, thank you very much.” He said, letting his displeasure be known as he turned and stalked off down one of the many corridors.

Malik merely shrugged. “Guess I’ll go this way.” He headed down a different one while Yugi and Atem picked one and went that way.

He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He would have preferred some company, but no matter. He’d make do on his own. Wasn’t like he _needed_ company while he roamed an unfamiliar place, after all. It just would have been nice to have someone to talk to. Bounce ideas off of. A certain someone, really. A certain white-haired someone.

He was beginning to think he might be in love with Ryou. It was annoying.

After walking for a bit, someone suddenly fell into step next to him. He was greeted by the sight of green hair and four labret studs.

He didn’t know Viper very well, but he knew enough to know that was who this was. He was probably the weirdest out of all of Ryou’s band of misfits, and that was saying something. He was the only one who seemed to use his newfound affluence to finance himself rather than simply enjoying the wealth. In the time he’d been a Bandit he’d gotten all four of his lip piercings, three tattoos, and gone from wearing what could essentially be described as rags to wearing fitted leather jackets, skin tight muscle shirts, ripped skinny jeans, and clearly expensive boots. Malik sort of admired his commitment to looking more badass.

Viper didn’t try to strike up a conversation with him, he just looked around and twisted one of his studs absently.

“What are you doing with me?” Malik eventually asked, after they’d wandered a good ways down the hall and opened a few doors.

“Pharaoh skipped me when he was giving orders.” Viper shrugged. “Considered running off on my own, too, but I’m not much of a fighter and I have the nagging feeling we’re going to run into trouble.”

“Why not go with your boss, then?”

“He obviously wants to be alone. And I’m not eager to piss him off.”

“Fair enough,” Malik admitted. “And why not chase down some of the other troops?”

“They all have their partners picked out already.” He shrugged again and shot him a look. “And the only one who didn’t have anybody was Wraith and we both know he prefers being alone.”

“Another fair point.”

It was silent again. Malik lost himself in thought as he continued to stop and open doors and Viper did the same. They covered a lot more rooms a lot quicker like this. It was nice, to be honest. And it was nice to have someone next to him.

God, he’d really gone soft.

Three years ago he wouldn’t have even spoken to Viper in the first place unless he was telling him to fuck off. Would have just walked with him and wished he was gone. But then again, three years ago, Viper was living on the streets and the chances of them ever running into each other were slim to none.

The sleeve of Viper’s jacket rode up the next time he opened a door, showing off a bandage wrapped tightly around his wrist. Malik frowned. Even if he didn’t actually care about this guy, he wasn’t a fan of seeing people self-harm. And that _really_ looked like some self-harm.

It was better to ask before he assumed, though. He knew that.

“Where’d that come from?” He asked.

“Huh?” Viper frowned slightly, eyebrows knitting together. “Where’d what come from, sir?”

“On your wrist.” He replied bluntly.

His brows drew closer together for a moment before they shot up and a look of understanding crossed his face. “Oh, that?” At Malik’s nod, a grin split his face and he laughed. “That’s not what you think it is, dude, I swear. I got new ink.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He paused and took his jacket off, tucking it between his knees and unwinding the bandage from his arm. “You’d be surprised how many people ask, sir.” He showed off the still-red and somewhat swollen tattoo on the inside of his arm. “See? Just ink.”

“Oh. Alright, good.”

He laughed and put the bandage back on, followed by his jacket. “Didn’t take you for the worrying type.”

“I only worry about people who are depressed.” He shrugged. “And considering your past I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

“Nah, dude, I’m resilient as fuck. Plus I’m rich now.” He snickered. “Anyway, we should get our asses back in gear.”

“Right. ‘Nother door up ahead.”

And they continued on their way for a bit.

* * *

 _You’re being overly dramatic._ Green-eyes huffed as Ryou walked away.

 _I’m always overly dramatic._ He bit back.

_You’re angry at nothing._

_I realize that. I don’t care._ He kicked a door open and checked the room. Nothing. _Just let me be pissy, fuckface. I need to get it all out before we see Kura._

Green-eyes didn’t reply to that. Ryou was simultaneously grateful and irritated.

He kicked open another door.

* * *

“Any ideas of where they’ll be?” Yugi glanced to Atem after walking in silence for a while.

“Not really?” He shrugged. “I assume they’ll be near the center, somewhere. Well guarded. And I’d bet the door won’t be easy to open.” He paused and opened one next to him. “That said, I wouldn’t put it past whoever is holding them to put them in some random room with a rudimentary lock just to make us waste our time.”

Yugi snorted and paused to open a door as well. “None of these seem to be locked.”

“I noticed.”

“Think it means anything?”

“Hard telling.”

Yugi huffed.

They returned to their silence, opening doors here and there.

* * *

“Um, Malik?” Viper had gone very, very still. “Do you hear that?”

Malik paused. “Footsteps.” He said after a moment.

Viper nodded. “Too heavy to be any of ours.” He pointed out. “We all walk fairly quietly.”

“Some of this asshole’s men, then?”

“Most likely.”

Malik grunted. “You said you weren’t much a fighter, didn’t you?” He hated to admit that that bothered him somewhat. He wasn’t sure he could take out very many on his own. He lacked the bloodlust and the conviction.

“I did, but I meant when I’m alone.” Viper shot him a grin. “I could take maybe one or two by myself, but with anyone around…”

“Draw strength from those around you, eh?”

“Yeah, I’m a parasite like that.” He snickered.

“Fair enough. I tend to be too.”

“A mutual symbiotic relationship.” He glanced toward one of the halls that branched off from the one they were in. “They’re coming from that way. You ready, sir?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Been awhile since I’ve seen any real action…”

“Same here.”

A group of men dressed in dark clothing rounded the corner, then, and all thoughts of continuing the conversation were lost. The next few minutes were a blur, for Malik. A blur of dark clothes, green hair, and the sharp sounds of skin impacting skin. He didn’t feel any pain. Didn’t think he heard Viper make any pained noises. But once the five men who’d attacked them had all collapsed to the ground, Viper hissed and pressed a hand to the side of his face. He kicked one of the men in the ribs.

“Nasty right hook ya got there.” He muttered, rubbing tenderly at the flesh beneath his hand. “If it were up to me you’d never throw one again.”

“Well,” Malik gave himself a rather cursory once-over before continuing, “Luckily for you, Viper, and not so luckily for this poor bastard, it’s up to _me_.”

Something lit in the Bandit’s eyes then. He cast a hopeful look downward, then to Malik.

“Go ahead, kill ‘em all.”

Malik wasn’t really sure what happened, after that, but for a minute or two everything sort of went black around him. When his vision cleared, the previously dark-clothed men were… No longer there? That was strange…

Viper had a huge grin - rather indicative of him being a Bandit after all, despite all his choices - plastered to his face and blood at the corner of his mouth. A wisp of shadow magic was curled around his wrist, slowly turning to smoke and disappearing. Malik was unsure of what had happened, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He was probably better off being in the dark about it, anyway.

Regardless, he couldn’t stop himself from taking a deep breath and asking, “Well what the fuck was that?”

“You don’t want to know the details,” Viper assured him with a snicker. “But I killed their bodies. And stole their life force.”

“... Did you eat them?”

“Technically speaking? Yeah.”

He considered that for a long moment, long enough that Viper started to shift slightly under his gaze. “Rad. Let’s go.”

Viper visibly relaxed and they continued on their merry way, encountering a few more of the dark-clothed men on their way. Each fight was interesting enough in its own right, and at the end of each, Viper would presumably become more like a giant shadowy anaconda and eat them.

At least that was what Malik gathered from what he could glimpse through the gloom.

He actually became a _snake_ when the darkness fell over them. It would have been much more entertaining and, well, _cool_ , if he could have seen it clearly, though. He wondered if the darkness was a necessity or if Viper was just trying to spare him all the gore. It wasn’t like it mattered, but with little to do besides open doors and snap the necks of random men (and women) he was getting decidedly bored.

“So like, what do you look like when you’re doing that?” Malik asked as they were systematically opening a long series of doors. “The life-force stealing thing.”

“A snake.” Viper shrugged. “Not sure what kind. Not real interested in stopping to find out most of the time.”

“Can’t blame you there. If I was a giant snake who had people to eat I probably wouldn’t care much about what kind of snake I was.”

Viper snickered at that. “Bet you’re wondering about the darkness, too, right? Well before you ask, no it isn’t necessary. But it’s… I dunno. I like it better that way. It’s scarier when you don’t know what’s trying to get you or where it’s coming from, you know?”

“You are _definitely_ one of Ryou’s.” Was Malik’s only reply to that.

Viper only laughed.

* * *

 _So what should we do to him?_ Green-eyes yawned.

“Torture him?” Ryou suggested aloud, looking at the dark-clothed man he had beneath him, boot pressed firmly to his throat.

_Good idea, but… How? What should we do? And should we try to extract information from him?_

“Well, we could always rip his fingernails off one by one.” He smiled slightly at the thought, “And he’s just a grunt, Green-eyes. I doubt he knows anything.”

_Point._

“Th-then why are you going t-to torture me?” The grunt shook from head to toe beneath his foot.

“For fun.”

He revelled in the horrified widening of the grunt’s eyes.

* * *

“Can you turn into that snake when you’re not stealing life forces?” The question left his lips unbidden.

“Never tried.” Viper glanced at him. “Why are you so interested?”

“I’m bored.” Malik shrugged. “Fighting is great and everything but at this point it’s just becoming tedious with all the door opening between the fights.”

“Point.” Viper yawned. “I’ll have to remember to test that form out for you, if I survive long enough.”

“If you survive long enough?” There was another question beneath it, one that didn’t need to be asked. It was understood clearly.

“I get the strangest feeling there’s gonna be a worse fight when we find who we’re looking for. And I’m not the greatest at fighting but there’s no way I’ll abandon my cause, so…”

Malik considered that. It was a fair assumption, really. If there was a confrontation, most of their grunts probably wouldn’t make it. Especially not the ones who couldn’t fight well.

But it’d be a shame to lose Viper, somehow.

Malik hated it when he got attached to people he barely knew, but at least he could do something to help this time. “Here.” He said, holding out the gem he’d gotten from his sister.

“Sir?” Viper hesitated as he lifted his hand to reach for it.

“Go on, take it.” Only when Viper, who was clearly apprehensive about the ordeal, took the gem did he say, “That was a gift from my sister, so I’ll be wanting it back…” Not a complete lie. “... But as long as you have it with you, you’ll be mostly invulnerable. It’s the only reason I’m not covered in bruises already.”

Viper regarded the gem for a moment, turning it in his hands, before he tucked it away in his pocket and turned to regard Malik. A silence.

“Thank you, sir.” He eventually said.

“Don’t mention it.” He shot him a smile and turned to continue their current mission.

When he glanced over his shoulder, he caught Viper staring ahead of himself with a weak - but clearly there - smile playing at his lips.

* * *

“Where are we even going?” One of them huffed.

“I don’t know.” The other huffed right back.

“This is useless.” Said the first.

“So are you.” Said the second.

* * *

“More doors.” Yugi sighed. “Lovely.”

Atem made a resigned noise. “Maybe we’re getting closer?”

“I somehow doubt that. I feel like we might be getting further away.”

“... Me too.”

“We should turn around.”

“Yeah.”

They both sighed deeply and turned as one, stalking back the way they’d come. Yugi grumbled under his breath the whole way. Atem valued his life too much to remind Yugi that he’d picked the direction they went.

* * *

“Okay,” Malik stopped. “This is getting ridiculous.”

Viper gave him a lopsided smile. “Look at it this way,” His voice echoed somewhat in the empty, wide and incredibly lengthy expanse of the hallway. “We’re probably getting close.”

“I hate the fact that you’re right.” He couldn’t help a lopsided smile of his own. “If you weren’t with me I’d probably just take off down one of the side hallways out of pure frustration.”

He snickered. “Well, good thing I’m here, then.” He looked down the hall. “Shall we, sir? Only one way to find out how this is going to work out for us, after all.”

“Of course.” He began walking again. “Say, do you even know who we’re here for?”

Viper shook his head. “Nope, the Bandit King never told us.”

“Believe it or not, we’re looking for our lovers.” Malik admitted. “They all disappeared three years ago.”

Viper wasn’t stupid enough to miss the correlation. “You guys have been setting up for this the whole time.”

“Indeed we have been. The initial hostile takeover idea was the Pharaoh’s. The Bandit King was, believe it or not, the voice of reason and asked how we were supposed to do that, so I suggested the whole gang idea.” He shrugged with a chuckle. “There used to be a different Phantom King, you know, even though he didn’t use that title.”

“Yeah, I know.” He smirked slightly. “And I think I know who it was.”

He snickered.

There was a long silence, filled only by the sounds of their breathing and their shoes tapping the floor. Distracted by thoughts of the past and of the one walking at their side, both of them turned their eyes downward. But it didn’t matter. They could have been blind. Could have been drunk and blind and they would still have noticed it.

What was ‘it’?

‘It’ was a large, looming, vaguely intimidating door sitting on the wall directly in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters remaining...  
> Lots of skipping around in this chapter. Sorry. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has bookmarked or subscribed to this story. It has given me the push I needed to keep going.


	28. Egyptian Tragedy

_Feeling better now?_ Green-eyes asked.

“If by ‘better’ you mean ‘slightly less homicidal’, then yes.” Ryou looked around, stepping over the body he’d just finished with. “Doesn’t seem like we’re getting any closer to them, though, does it?”

_Not really, no._

He huffed. “Well dammit, now I’m frustrated again.”

_Kill another one._

“Good idea.” He rounded a corner, senses on high alert as he searched for another grunt to disembowel and/or otherwise torment.

There was the nearby sound of footsteps. But something was different… They weren’t rushed like all the ones he’d heard before. They were slow, deliberate. Accompanying them was an occasional, quiet sigh. It sounded like the steps of someone who was wandering without a purpose, broken on the inside.

He could relate.

He rounded another corner, coming face to face with a very perplexed man with long blue hair. They stared at each other for a long moment before the blue-haired man blinked his heterochromatic eyes and took a step back, placing himself in a fighting stance.

Ryou merely shrugged and did the same. “This works too.”

_Yeah, I guess it does. Kick his ass._

“He seems important, though.” He cocked his head to the side, not bothering to lower his voice, since this man was likely to die soon. “What’s your name?”

“I am Dartz. And you are the Bandit King, yes?”

“That would be me. Ya know, the Pharaoh told me there was a guy named Dartz that I was supposed to spare if I came into contact with…” He frowned. “There go my plans.”

“You follow the orders of the Pharaoh?”

“I’m doing a favor for a friend.” The frown deepened into a scowl. “Don’t just assume I’m following orders.”

He laughed. It was a hollow, dead sound. Again, Ryou could relate. “But you are, aren’t you? You know he’s the boss.”

He wasn’t sure he liked the sudden pang of inferiority in his gut. He wasn’t inferior to anyone. He was the best. He was the Bandit King and just because Yugi was the Pharaoh that didn’t mean he was better. Didn’t mean he was more powerful. Except it did, and he knew that, but _Yugi_ was the one who got on his knees for him. _Yugi_ was the one who got bent over the nearest flat surface or shoved against the wall. It wasn’t him. He was the alpha. Yugi wasn’t _shit._

Except he was. He only submitted because he was a bottom. Ryou knew that. He hated it.

“That doesn’t mean I listen.” He said after a moment and an uncharacteristically gentle nudge from Green-eyes. “And that doesn’t mean he can order me around in the first place. He doesn’t have the _balls._ ”

“But when he does decide to have them, it pisses you off to no end, doesn’t it? You feel inferior and weak and it’s an all too familiar feeling for you to be comfortable with it.”

Ryou let his instincts win out this time, rather than just stewing in what Dartz had said. He lashed out physically, for once, actually expressed his displeasure at this particular line of conversation non-verbally. And his physical response was, to be exact, a hard set of knuckles to Dartz’s cheekbone.

Clearly surprised by the reaction, Dartz stumbled back, nearly losing his footing. Ryou almost regretted it - not because he hadn’t wanted to punch Dartz, but because Dartz was probably a little bit better in a fist fight than he was. He could only cheat so much, after all, seeing as he’d been using most of his power on the grunts out of spite. He was essentially fucked - not in the way he liked -, but the look on Dartz’s face was well worth the ass-kicking he was probably about to receive.

With the punch that Dartz threw in retaliation, he realized he was right. Dartz was better than he was… But he was faster. Through some small miracle, he managed to duck in time for Dartz to miss his head by about an inch. Dartz, however, was quick enough to grab a handful of Ryou’s hair and yank him to his feet.

 _Good thing we fight dirty, eh?_ Green-eyes laughed.

Ryou only spared him an affirmative hum before he struck out at Dartz’s solar plexus, knocking the air out of him. The man’s grip loosened for a fraction of a second while he tried to suck in a breath and Ryou pulled away as much as he could before slamming his foot into the man’s shin.

They went back and forth for a little while, after Dartz caught his breath and Ryou had successfully freed himself. A punch or two here, a kick, a grab for the other’s hair… Dartz went back to antagonizing him, after a bit. Went back to teasing him and he was overwhelmed by the all-consuming desire to just kill the bastard and get it over with.

_He’s baiting us. Don’t fall for it._

He’d have to remember to thank Green-eyes for being the voice of reason.

But even with that knowledge it was hard to shove down the urge to snap Dartz’s neck when he finally got him down on the ground and pinned him. He was almost deaf to the sound of himself growling deep in his throat while he held the older man by his neck. But only almost. He heard himself. He was honestly starting to scare himself with this shit. It was so much like how Bakura used to act that he was almost entirely sure that when he’d started falling deeper into the abyss he’d started emulating the only person he knew that could be vaguely frail-looking and still be intimidating.

He didn’t want to be Bakura. He wanted to be Ryou and he wanted to _find_ Bakura, beat his _ass_ , and then cuddle him for the rest of eternity.

Yeah. That sounded like a plan. He liked that plan.

He just had to get this bastard out of the way in order to take the next step in that plan.

“I see you’re stronger than I thought you were.” Dartz said after the growl faded off in his throat.

He hummed. “I get that a lot. And I didn’t even cheat this time.”

“Cheat?”

A one shouldered shrug. “Usually I tend to augment my strength and speed with Shadow Magic.”

“Why didn’t you this time?”

“Tired. I’ve been systematically taking out every grunt I come in contact with, so…”

“So _that’s_ where they’re all going. The other Kings are here too, aren’t they?”

“Yep. I don’t think the Pharaoh’s killing anyone, but I’m sure a couple of my own grunts are, and I have no doubt that the Phantom King has killed a few.” He hummed. “Though, the ones that you can’t find after this would be the victims of one of my best trackers.”

“Why wouldn’t there be bodies?”

“He eats them whole to steal their life force.” He shrugged.

Dartz paled considerably.

“Look, I’d say I won, wouldn’t you?” Ryou chose to change the subject so he could be on his way. Dartz nodded. “Then I’m gonna spare you now.” He got up. “And tell you something I’m sure you need to hear.”

Dartz raised a brow as he sat up. “How do you know what I need to hear?”

“Because I needed to hear essentially the same thing for the past three years.” He cracked a smile. “Pegasus is alive. He’s perfectly fine and he’s currently on his island.”

Ryou didn’t think he’d ever seen someone move so fast in his entire life. His smile widened as he watched Dartz bolt down the hallway at top speed. He threw a ‘thank you’ over his shoulder and then he was gone. Ryou snorted, then, and shook his head, moving in the other direction.

As he walked, he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his back pocket. Confused, he fished it out.

_Malik._

“Hello?” He put it on speakerphone, holding it a foot or so from his face.

“Hey. I found them.” There was a brief silence, followed by two exasperated groans. “Unfortunately they can’t hear me through this shitty door. And I can’t get said shitty door open. Viper, you having any luck?”

There was a soft negative, followed by a curse.

“I’ll be there in a minute. I think. Which direction did you go in?”

“Um. I turned left from where I came from and I went mostly in a straight line, so…”

“Right. I’ll be there in a minute.” He paused for a moment and decided to try and track Malik. Sure, it hadn’t worked with trying to track Yami, but Yami had been here for a while and there was a heavy dark presence blocking him. Maybe he’d have better luck with Malik. “See you then.” He said, a smirk prominent in his voice as he latched onto Malik’s presence.

“Right.”

With renewed fervor, he bolted down the hall.

* * *

“So which way did Malik go, again?”

“I dunno.” Atem sighed. “I think he went that way?” He pointed.

“Eh, hell with it, let’s just go this way. We’d probably have just as much luck with any other direction.”

“No kidding.”

They began to head down a hall… Right in time for Malik to call them as well. An exchange similar to the one he’d had with Ryou passed, ending in much the same way. “Looks like we’re already heading the right way, ‘Tem. Should we book it?”

“Let’s.”

* * *

On arrival, Ryou paused only for a second to kiss Malik on the cheek before shoving Viper out of his way. The younger man managed to catch himself before he face planted on the cold concrete floor, and while he didn’t look pleased for a moment or two, he didn’t retaliate. Malik felt a little sorry for him, and Ryou only regretted it a little bit.

“Well no fuckin’ wonder you can’t get it unlocked.” He said after a moment. “Whoever put ‘em in here put six fucking Shadow Seals on it.”

“You seem irritated by that.”

“It’s hard enough to force open _one_ Shadow Seal, Malik.” He frowned. “That’s not to say I can’t do it, though. It’ll just take some time. I’ll need someone to cover me until I can break them.”

“I can arrange that.” Malik fished his phone back out of his pocket while Viper quickly took up a position beside Ryou.

Still loyal even when he wasn’t particularly thrilled to be around his boss. _That_ was rare. Then again, most of the Bandits weren’t _ever_ particularly thrilled to be around their boss and yet none of them had a traitorous bone in them when it came to him. Maybe they were scared? It seemed like a very real possibility to Malik, and after ordering some backup he too took up a defensive position near Ryou until their troops arrived.

Yugi and Atem arrived moments later, trotting up the hallway to them. Yugi gave the scene a once-over before shrugging and also standing defensively near Ryou, Atem following suit. He didn’t question what they were doing.

Ten minutes passed. No one approached. There wasn’t even a sound besides that of Ryou grunting quietly and muttering under his breath.

“This is… Suspicious.” Yugi eventually muttered. “Shouldn’t there be grunts bothering us?”

“Yeah. There should.” Malik frowned. “I don’t like this.”

“Good.” A new voice spoke. “I’d be worried for your mental health if you _liked_ it.”

A man melted from the shadows nearby, grinning a huge shark-toothed grin at them. Each and every single tooth was like a sharpened alabaster blade. His eyes, unblinking, glowed crimson.

“Who are you?” Atem asked, but before he received an answer he felt Ryou’s presence directly behind him, piercing eyes staring past him at the man.

“Zorc Necrophades.” Ryou growled softly. “The patron god of Shadow Magic. He’s not supposed to be able to take a human form.”

“Oh, don’t be so literal, little witch!” Zorc chortled. “They merely meant my own body cannot be condensed into such a small shape.”

“Then what poor schmuck did you possess, hm? How long’s he been dead, now?”

“Oh, he’s not dead! He’s handling my possession quite nicely!”

“I _highly_ doubt that.”

“So he needs frequent breaks.” Zorc waved a hand dismissively. “I rarely really need to use his body, but as you can probably tell this place is far too small for me to appear to you in my true form.”

A snort from Ryou. “Oh, please. Your true form is trapped in Ancient Egypt, forever stuck in a time loop of being summoned and being defeated.” He sneered, and for a second Zorc’s grin became a scowl. “You couldn’t appear to us without your host even if we were outside.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Any self-respecting mage knows the story of their patron.” He gave him a sickly sweet grin of his own.

“Hmph. Very well, you’ve gotten my interest, little witch. What say you to a Shadow Game?”

“Depends on what the game is, _my lord._ ” It rolled off his tongue, sarcasm dripping with fake adoration.

Malik really wished he could be that salty without even trying. It was like an art style or some shit.

“The ‘game’, my pet, is more of a challenge. You have to do whatever you can to remove my six Shadow Seals before time runs out, and I have to try and stop you. If you manage it, I will admit defeat and you can take your little fuck toys and go. If you fail, I win and the only three people in the world who can stop me will be mine.”

Ryou considered it for a moment. “Their lives are in my hands, then?”

“Essentially.”

“Hmph. Hope you two trust me a whole fucking lot.”

“So you accept then?” Zorc seemed to brighten again. He let loose a cackle, saying, “Wonderful!” when Ryou nodded.

An hourglass appeared nearby, setting on the ground before floating upwards. It was about waist-high to Zorc, who’s vessel appeared to be about six feet tall.

 _That’s a huge fucking hourglass._ Yugi found himself thinking. He had to immediately refrain from smacking himself in the face for having such an obvious thought and almost repeating it aloud. Of _course_ it was a big hourglass. Villains always did dumb shit like summoning 3 foot tall hourglasses out of nowhere to track how long the hero was taking.

Funny… When did he start thinking of himself and the other Kings as the good guys again? For the past three years they’d been the villains and embraced it. He guessed he was just thinking that way because Zorc was worse than they were and they were technically trying to stop him.

Oh well.

“You will have two hours.” Zorc said. “I’m not unreasonable, I know how difficult it is to force open Shadow Seals.”

“Six in two hours is still pushing it a bit.” Ryou murmured, turning back to the door. “But alright.”

“Your friends will be permitted to try and stop me from, well, stopping you, but I doubt four mere mortals will do much against a god.”

Ryou wanted to make a remark about gods in human shells being significantly weaker, but chose not to. It’d be easier to beat him if he was in a good mood, after all. No need to piss him off.

“Your time begins… Now.”

The hourglass lurched and flipped itself over. The entire island quivered, which was clearly supposed to make Ryou’s job harder by knocking him over and making him waste time, but it only succeeded in making him scowl and brace himself on the door frame for a moment. He shot a glare over his shoulder at the four protecting him.

“I’d suggest you keep your guards up if you want any chance of me winning this.”

Normally Malik and Yugi would have been offended by the implication that they didn’t have their guard up, but they could understand the need for him to say it out loud. Especially when they looked into his eyes. Ryou was uncertain about this, but something told them that taking this gamble was the best bet that he could give them, when it came to Zorc.

The moment they turned their eyes away from Ryou, they were met with four dogs melting out of the shadows and lunging at them. Yugi actually caught the one that jumped at him, seeing as it was somewhat small, and held it about an inch out of reach of his face. It snapped and growled and kicked its legs but quickly tired itself out and began trying to lick him. He sat it down on the floor.

Malik’s first instinct was to knee the one that came at him. It yelped and melted away. Atem and Viper had much the same reaction to theirs. All of them gave Yugi a mildly perplexed look as he sat his down.

“It’s kinda cute.” He said with a shrug, reaching up to block when a tendril of shadows smacked at him. He grimaced. “That stung. Hey, why don’t you bite that instead?” He looked at the dog, which perked up and sunk its teeth into the tendril. “Aw, good… Boy?”

Over his own snort, Malik barely heard Ryou murmur, “I’m doomed.”


	29. Hell On Wheels

To say that they were having a little bit of trouble dealing with the rest of the stuff Zorc threw at them would, unfortunately, be an understatement. They were having a lot of trouble, really. Too much trouble. He’d really stepped up his game after Yugi had effortlessly tamed one of his little shadow dogs and set it on his tendrils.

That had gone fairly well for them, but to their dismay the odds didn’t stay in their favor for long. He started throwing bigger monsters at them, bigger tendrils lashed out. It was hard not to be distracted by the sight of Viper punching huge shadow creatures directly in the face, Yugi would admit. He almost let his guard down in awe of the skinny green haired man on more than one occasion.

A monster quickly brought him back to his senses each time.

He was also quite easily distracted by other troops showing up to help them, sometimes in large groups, sometimes one at a time. With each troop, the threat that Zorc posed only increased. Every troop brought a new monster, and each new monster was harder to defeat than the last. Fortunately, there were a few very good teams of troops here, today. Ryou’d been sure to bring Fire and Gorbasch, who Yugi had long since learned were a force to be reckoned with when together.

Fire had his name for a reason, and Gorbasch augmented him very well with well-timed explosions and flames of his own. They were the definition of a demolition duo. Yugi could understand why someone usually had to be with them in order to taper their violent urges.

And Sage, who was typically very reserved and non-violent, could be quite fierce when he wanted to. Seemed he was doing very well fighting alongside Viper and one of Malik’s Ghouls who he wasn’t sure of the name of.

Despite the dangers of not paying attention, Malik found some things too entertaining to ignore. Like, for example, Viper punching a shadowy mimic of his boss directly in the face.

Watching that particular display, of course, was his mistake, because it made him laugh and blinded him to the monster approaching him. It snatched him up and then everything went black with an audible crack and a sharp pain in the back of his head.

“Malik’s down!” Viper called to Yugi, who merely nodded while he turned and pounced on the thing still standing over his unconscious body.

He didn’t have time to watch what Yugi did to it, but after a moment or two he heard it give a shriek. A glance over his shoulder showed it melting away while Yugi dragged Malik over by the door and propped him up. He turned his head back just in time to duck under the swing of the bothersome shadow copy of his boss that just kept coming back no matter how many times he and the other two killed it.

He punched it in the face again.

He was fairly sure that, if it had been a real person, he’d have broken it’s nose at least once by now, with a right hook being his go-to to defend himself in a pinch. The little Immortal who’d teamed up with him on arrival took the opportunity to grab the shadow copy by its braid and tug it backwards, opening it up to an attack from the Ghoul, who mercilessly shoved his lance through its throat.

Brutal. He liked it.

“Nice job!” He called to them as a new monster melted out of the shadows next to him. He dealt with it quickly.

They both thanked him, though the Ghoul’s was a bit delayed while he slammed his own creature to the ground. He planted his foot firmly on its head and shoved until it shattered. Oh, Viper was in love with this guy. _Oh_ , and that little Immortal. He didn’t look like much, on the surface, but right now he was absolutely vicious and it was…

It was really hot.

… He was going to be jacking off so much tonight, if he survived.

The thought reiterated itself when he watched the little Immortal get pinned down by a shadow creature and respond by sinking his teeth into its throat. It lurched back, effectively doing the Immortal’s job for him and fading away.

Sage spat shadows and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Viper was at his side in the next instant, more monsters melting out of the ground.

“What’s your name?” He asked with a grin.

Sage rolled his eyes. “Sage.” He found himself being pulled out of a monster’s way, tucked against a warm chest, a tendril melting out of his own shadow and swatting the monster away.

“Your real name?” It was softer, sweeter sounding than the preceding question.

He _almost_ shivered. Had he not been working, he probably would have. Instead, he rolled his eyes again, and the response clearly wasn’t lost on Viper, judging by his soft huff. “If we survive, I’ll tell you, but you have to tell me yours too.”

“Gladly.”

“And while we’re at it,” He said, peeling himself away to get back to work, “Maybe we can get the vicious guy’s number together.”

Viper laughed. “I’m all for it!”

Sage did try not to smile at that. He really did. He blamed Viper for his failure.

Fire hated to admit it, but he was really starting to tucker himself out with all this fighting. Usually he didn’t have to use so much power during a fight. A couple well-timed bursts of flame and the fight was over, especially if Gorbasch was with him. But here they were, using up all their power together in ways they hadn’t had to do for a very long time. Hadn’t had to do since they were little street rats running from men much bigger and stronger than they were.

It brought a warm, fuzzy feeling to the pit of his stomach that he would have more than enough time to dwell on when this was over with. He could tell, though, that he was burning out quickly (he couldn’t help making jokes at his own expense, sometimes) and that Gorbasch really wasn’t fairing much better. If this didn’t get over with soon, they’d both completely drain themselves and if he was honest they weren’t of much use without their powers.

He was too skinny to be useful, all knees and elbows and protruding ribs and vertebrae. Even if he were to be skilled at all in actual fighting, he wouldn’t have much chance of winning. Too skinny. He needed to work on that, but that was just another thing he could dwell on when this was over with. Gorbasch was the better option if they happened to run their power to empty, but he still wasn’t much of a physical force. He wasn’t scrawny, not by any stretch, but he wasn’t muscular either, and unless he planned to roundhouse or otherwise kick every single opponent in his way none of his muscles were really any use in a fight.

Again. Dwelling on things that needed to be dwelled on later.

He cackled, in spite of himself, as he lit another pyre beneath the feet of a large, undulating mass of darkness. It struck him that he could have tried to do this to the man who was summoning the beasts, but there was no way he’d be able to find an opening with all the monsters. And even if he could, Zorc was still too far away from him for a proper attempt. Not to mention that he no longer had quite enough energy for the kind of blast he’d need in order to hit the guy.

It was kind of irritating, in a way. He hoped Gorbasch didn’t notice him getting all worked up - they always ended up fighting each other when he started letting his temper flare. Because Gorbasch would try to calm him down but he’d be confrontational about it.

“We’re not going to be able to keep this up much longer.” Gorbasch muttered to him as their backs pressed together. “We need a plan.”

“A plan of attack. A way to react.” Fire muttered under his breath, then to Gorbasch, “Hope you’ve got somethin’ cookin’ because my mind’s pretty barren at the moment.”

“I think I have something, actually.”

“Lay it on me, bro.”

The next few moments were, of course, how they ended up running around, ducking under monsters and hopping over others while they tried to preserve the last of their strength.

And all for one big controlled inferno that consumed all the shadow creatures in their range. Their cohorts all made some noise or another of shock, surprise, fear… Noises that quickly faded away when they realized that they weren’t being harmed by the flames. And it was by no means an easy feat for Fire to keep such strict control over what got burned and what didn’t - he’d never controlled an inferno like this before. He had to concentrate. Kill the hostile ones. You can spare the little shadow dog next to Yugi.

Concentrate.

Put the fire out, now, the evil creatures are gone. Put it out.

Good.

Good.

He collapsed before he knew what was happening, but thin arms caught him and pulled him back onto his feet. Soft reassurances were whispered into his ear, alongside encouragements. “You did so well, I’m so proud… You’re gonna be okay.”

He whispered back an affirmative and willed his body to move.

They hadn’t really done much, but Atem was still grateful for the short respite the inferno gave him. He had time to catch his breath (sort of, he was still winded - he hadn’t actually been in a fight for about a year and a half, and never one like this) before more monsters began to form, and he could see Yugi sort of struggling to suck in a breath as well. Viper had disappeared, Sage was sitting on the floor with his head between his knees, and the unnamed Ghoul was practically twitching. Seemed he wasn’t fond of the sudden end to the fight.

The twitching only lessened a small bit when monsters began to appear again. Maybe he was anxious about something else altogether?

A look around before he had to start fighting again showed him a large snake curling its way across the slick floor, sneaking toward Zorc. But then he was distracted by the lunge of another shadow dog, which he promptly ducked under and then punted across the way. It reminded him, though, that Yugi’s little buddy was still bouncing around his feet and biting the tendrils that threatened his focus.

The snake was coiling itself up behind Zorc, now, and of course Zorc was far too busy making sure he kept summoning monsters to notice. It didn’t strike, for the time being. He wondered why, while he still had the time and presence of mind to do so.

Was it on his side? If so, why hadn’t it struck any of them? And if it was on their side, was it simply biding its time?

He hoped that was the case, really.

But, as it turned out, he didn’t need to be worried. Suddenly, Zorc’s body swayed. The shadow beasts flickered. They stopped attacking, and so did everyone else. Red eyes rolled back into his head and he fell flat on his face.

The monsters vaporized, save the one bouncing around Yugi’s ankles.

“Did…” He didn’t dare finish the question.

The enormous hourglass, under their collective gaze, turned to dust and melted away.

There was no cheer, no celebration. Everyone stood, staring where the hourglass had been. Silence stretched on. Fire’s mind and body teetered on the edge of unconsciousness and Viper popped up next to poor little Sage. The smaller assumed he’d immediately pursue his question again, but the green haired one said nothing.

Malik groaned as he sat up. Next to him, Yugi was bracing himself on his knees, panting and gasping. Ryou watched them both, silent and clearly concerned.

He nodded to the man. Ryou’s shoulders only relaxed a fraction as his gaze turned to Yugi, who also nodded, throwing him a thumbs up. He relaxed a little more and turned back to the door. But he was clearly still worried. Still tense. He wondered why but he knew asking wouldn’t get him anywhere until Ryou got that damned door open. He’d be too focused on it, anyway, and he’d get defensive if Malik tried to get personal right now. Bad idea. Ryou was like a cornered raccoon when he didn’t want to talk about something or when that something was getting in the way of him managing to do something else.

So he watched, slowly pushing himself to his feet, as Ryou fiddled away at the door. Suddenly there was an audible click and the sound of something breaking. Ryou smiled, body relaxing a bit more. He pulled a bobby pin from his hair, twiddled it in the lock on the door a bit, and then with a click it came unlocked.

A very quiet chorus of cheers came from their collective men. From what Malik could see a great deal of them were actually getting along, but most of them had collapsed to the floor by now and watching quietly, faces gaunt, while Ryou finally got to his feet.

“You two ready?” He asked softly.

“More than ready.” Yugi replied breathlessly, and for a second Malik was worried before he realized it wasn’t breathless in the way he was thinking of. It was breathless in an incredulous, disbelieving way. Although he clearly wanted to believe this was going to work out in their favor, Malik could see the cynical wheels turning in his little head.

“Absolutely.” Was all Malik could bring forth from his mouth.

Ryou nodded and turned the handle, letting the door swing open. Malik could almost hear his pulse racing - not that he couldn’t see it in the veins in his neck. Was Ryou really that nervous? Well, _he_ certainly was, so it wasn’t like he had much room to talk on the subject. Still… Ryou seemed really out of his element today.

Then again, they were all a little out of their element today. Malik had let his guard down and paid for it. Yugi had actually _fought_. Atem had to deal with all this supernatural bullshit.

Yugi pushed himself up, clearly trying to scrape together some dignity. He swallowed. Shot a look at him. He threw him a thumbs up at him and Yugi managed a half smile.

“Let’s do this.” He mouthed to the smaller.

He nodded. Both looked to Ryou, who was still stalled outside the room, waiting. They nodded to him, but he shook his head and waved them in. So they approached, leaning in close.

“Something wrong?” Yugi whispered, quirking a brow.

“I’m not ready yet.” Ryou shrugged. “I just need a moment.”

“Or else you’ll punch him?” Malik suggested softly. Ryou nodded in agreement.

“Right, okay.” Yugi swallowed again, then looked to Atem. He motioned at him, then shooed him into the room when he came over.

He nodded and entered, glancing at them once he was inside with a look that told them they weren’t going to be disappointed when they worked up the courage. His eyes seemed watery, and after a second or two a surprised shout rang out in the room, followed by a long stream of Arabic. Atem disappeared behind the door, and his voice joined the other.

Malik spared another glance at Yugi, who looked like he was going to start crying any second now. He was valiantly holding back the tears, though, and once he’d managed to blink them away, he squared his shoulders, straightened his tie, and walked into the room.

The moment Yami laid eyes on him, another delighted shout rang out. And once he’d crossed the room to the older male, and had strong arms wrap around him, he fell apart. His face found itself buried in Yami’s shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “Holy shit.” He murmured, “Holy shit. I’ve missed you so much, Yami, I almost can’t believe we found you…” He muffled a laugh against the other’s skin, because he was suddenly aware of just how _quiet_ it was in this room. “Fuck, I never thought three years was a long time, before. But it was worth it. It was so worth it.”

Yami let him ramble. Didn’t try to stop him. But when he finally went silent the man chuckled and murmured, “You’re wearing a suit. Why are you wearing a suit?”

“It’s a long story.” He snickered. “One I don’t feel like telling just yet. Why are you naked?”

“I blame the other two and our collective hormones.”

He snorted, unable to find it within himself to be angry that Yami’d been unfaithful - after all, he hadn’t been faithful either. But at least it went both ways and he wouldn’t be the one apologizing about it… Because he _knew_ Yami would apologize. He’d heard the guilt in his voice. “With those two, really?” He pulled back to give him an amused (and maybe somewhat incredulous) look.

“Yes, with those two.” Yami’s face was turning a cute shade of red.

He kissed him. “Fair enough. Not like I haven’t gotten pegged by Ryou a couple times.”

He heard someone else choke. “Ryou’s still alive?”

“Yep.” He leaned his head to the side to better see Bakura, because he _knew_ that was who had spoken. “Alive and as crazy as ever. Maybe a little worse.”

“Is…” Bakura had paused in the middle of pulling on pants. “Is he here?”

Was that _hope_? That was adorable. “He is. Just give him a minute - I think he’s in shock.”

“That’s fair.” Bakura had a ghost of a smile on his lips while he finished pulling his pants over his ass.

And what a nice ass it was. No wonder Ryou liked it.

Bakura quirked an eyebrow. “Are you checking me out, Muto?”

“Just admiring your ass. You wouldn’t believe how much Ryou used to talk about your ass and now I’m beginning to see why.”

Marik, who hadn’t bothered to even reach for his pants yet, snorted. “Do I get to get checked out, too?”

“If you’d stand up, probably.” Yugi snickered and pressed a kiss to Yami’s cheek. “Now you get dressed. Much as I’d like to bend over for you right now, there are people outside who actually _respect_ me and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Atem, without missing a beat, replied, “That didn’t stop you from bending over for me yesterday.”

When Yugi shot him a look, he was examining his fingernails. “You also had your fingers in my mouth and Ryou and Malik were already making enough noise to cover me.”

That earned them both a round of incredulous and amused stares.

“Kinky.” Bakura said after a minute.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Atem smirked, punctuating it with a sharp smack to Yugi’s backside.

As if to prove his point, Yugi’s body betrayed him and forced a moan out of his lips. His cheeks heated somewhat while he punched Atem in the arm. “This coming from the guy who gets off on listening to me whimper when I get oversensitive.”

That got Atem to blush somewhat while Yami snickered.

“You know, I figured you two would end up together while I was gone.”

“I wouldn’t say we’re together.” Yugi said carefully, joking mood gone but cheeks still red. He spared Atem a glance. “I don’t think being fuck buddies for the past few weeks qualifies as ‘together’.”

Yami watched them for a moment. “Fair enough.” He conceded. “But…”

“I wasn’t really… Around much.” Atem shrugged. “I was busy and being a child about something minor.”

“We moved past it a couple months ago when he called me for help on a mission.” Yugi faked a swoon.

The conversation continued, and outside the room, Malik was holding Ryou.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” Ryou whispered. “I don’t know if…”

“You can. You’ve done harder things, Ryou. You can do this.” Malik felt weird being the reassuring one. He’d never had this role before. He hoped he was doing it right.

“... You’re right.” Ryou sighed, leaning heavily against his chest. “I can. I just…” He shook his head and kissed Malik’s chin. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it without punching him. Or crying.”

“Crying’s fine. You have every right to cry.”

“But I…”

“You’ve been really strong for three years.” Malik assured him. “You don’t need to stay that way. Let Bakura be the strong one.”

Ryou gave a weak half-sob, half-laugh. “You know, you’d have made a really good boyfriend if we hadn’t found them.”

Malik snorted. “Just because I can be sensitive once in a blue moon…”

It was a real laugh, this time. “Let’s just get in there.”

“Alright.”

Ryou still hesitated to pull away, though. “Can…” He bit his lip, “Can I hold your hand?”

“So you don’t punch him?” A nod. “Of course.”

He finally pulled away and grabbed his hand. They entered the room, mid-conversation, and waited to be noticed. Ryou squeezed his hand painfully tight, but he didn’t complain. He could be a nice guy for a while. And when Marik’s eyes fell upon them, the conversation stuttered to a halt.

“Malik?” He asked, clearly disbelieving.

“In the flesh.” He smiled, surprising himself with how easily it came. He glanced to Ryou who only gave him a nod before releasing his hand. “Hug?” He held his arms out.

He almost squealed when Marik scooped him up into his arms and spun him around, but managed to hold the sound back and wrap his own arms around the man. It felt so nice to be on the receiving end of a strong-armed hug again. He almost wanted to cry.

Almost.

Ryou and Bakura simply stared at each other. Yugi watched them from his place between Yami and Atem. Eventually, Bakura pushed away from the wall and approached Ryou, slow and careful. He was being cautious and Yugi couldn’t figure out why until he remembered that if anyone knew anything about Ryou’s mental state, it was him. And if _he_ was worried, maybe he should get out of their way.

Ryou’s eyes flickered green. Bakura flinched slightly. They turned brown again, then back to green, and finally settled on an in-between hazel color. And then they filled with tears, and while Bakura looked a little guilty at that, he mostly seemed relieved. He hugged him tightly and Ryou relaxed into him, all the tension leaving him in a second while he was enveloped in the feeling of being cared for and safe. Bakura was the only one who could ever make him feel like that.

But Green-eyes was still nagging at him to say something, and as usual lately he could for the most part agree with it.

“Don’t you ever fucking leave me again.” He hissed.

Bakura flinched slightly. Before Ryou could apologize for his phrasing, the older male squeezed him tighter. “I won’t.”

“Good.”

“Heartwarming as this is,” Yugi said after a long moment, “I think it’s high time we headed back to the mainland. Maybe go home with our men and reacquaint ourselves with them?” He winked at Ryou, who snickered and grabbed Bakura’s ass. “And tomorrow, we’ll meet in Valhalla to settle all this.”

“Sure thing, Pharaoh,” Malik rolled his eyes. “And we’ll need to figure out what exactly we’re going to do about our little project…”

“Leave it with the Lieutenants, my dear Phantom King.” Yugi waved a hand. “Let them sort it out.”

“Can we really trust them to finish it all up? Especially our Bandit King’s lieutenant?”

“Zen is trustworthy. His temper doesn’t usually get in the way like it did the other day.” Ryou rolled his eyes. “Anyway, let’s go. I’m more than ready to be home.”

“Me too.” Bakura sighed. “Three years is way too much fuckin’ time to be away.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”


	30. A Message

To say it was strange to be sitting in Valhalla again was an understatement, Yugi thought. It was  _ incredibly _ strange. Especially since he was no longer there alone with the other Kings. Now there were four extra people.

Four extra people, and only two of which he’d ever thought he missed the presence of. But, as it was turning out, he’d missed Bakura and Marik just as much. Missed the sarcastic roll of Bakura’s eyes when Marik said something stupid, and the constant flow of innuendos and inappropriate humor that Marik provided. Somehow he’d missed them just as much as he missed Atem and Yami. As much as he’d missed the string of curses when Atem realized he’d made a mistake, and the soft Arabic in his ear while Yami talked just for the sake of talking.

He was sitting in his throne, right now, but of course he was on Yami’s lap while Atem leaned against the side of it. Ryou and Bakura were sprawled out on his nest of cushions and pillows, murmuring to each other, and Malik had chosen to recreate the time Yugi’d walked in on he and Ryou cuddling on his chaise, but this time around he was Ryou. Marik didn’t seem to mind nearly as much as he had, an arm wound around his waist and a half smile on his lips.

It was all well and good, of course, but he suddenly had the uncomfortable urge to be by himself for a little bit. He wasn’t sure what to do about it. He didn’t really want to tell Yami he wanted to be left alone. How would that sound, really? “Oh, I know I just got you back and spent three years pretty much all by myself, but I really need to be left alone. No offense!”

Yeah.

No.

He squirmed slightly, though, and had an idea that would work fairly well. And, sure, it wouldn’t get him alone for long, but he’d still get a little bit of time to himself.

“Hey, lemme up, baby. I gotta  _ go _ .”

Yami snickered, “Gang leader, but you still can’t just say you gotta piss.” He muttered, but obeyed.

“I  _ can  _ say it,” He argued as he got up, “But I’d really rather not. I’m trying to be myself right now.”

“Fair enough.”

He disappeared into the hallway and sighed, sagging against the wall. He felt a  _ little _ less uncomfortable now…

Maybe he was just overstimulated? After all, he’d been getting a lot more attention than he was accustomed to ever since Yami got back - and not just from Yami, either. He’d actually gotten his wish when he’d hoped he could have both of his men.

He wasn’t sure what god to thank for that.

He sighed again, shoved off the wall, and wandered off down the hallway. The further away from the room he got, the better he felt. Yep. Overstimulated. He’d just need to hang out by himself for a little while and then he could go back and he’d be fine. It had been too much to hope for that he could just return to his old routine. He had too many things that were different now to honestly think it would work out like that. But he’d dared to dream and now he was getting bitten in the ass for it.

Oh, well. He’d survive working himself back into being social.

He paused in the middle of a hallway. Something told him taking another step was a bad idea… And suddenly everything around him melted away into white. He gulped.

_ “Do not fear.” _ A soft voice said. It lulled him, pushed away his panic with ease.  _ “You are in no danger, little Pharaoh.” _

“Who are you?”

_ “I am Horakhty, the Creator of Light.” _

“So… You’re like the antithesis of Zorc?”

A figure appeared in front of him. A giggle.  _ “Yes. I suppose I am ‘like’ the antithesis of him.” _

Horakhty was  _ definitely _ a girl, Yugi decided. That was cool. She seemed sweet. “No offence, but… Why are you here?”

_ “Because you and your associates are my champions. You have done the world a great service by thwarting Zorc… But he will return. He always does. I came to warn you. You must be prepared for his return.” _

“Oh.” Dread. “Well, thanks.” He wanted to throw some sort of honorific on the end, but he couldn’t decide on one that fit.

_ “You are welcome,” _ She giggled.  _ “Additionally… As reward for your selfless defense of Malik Ishtar, I will grant you a single wish, now.” _

He thought. And thought. “I only want one thing.” He said after a long moment. “I think you know what it is.”

She nodded.  _ “Of course. And so it shall be done. You will adjust much easier.” _

“Thank you.”

_ “It is nothing, my child. Remember - be prepared.” _

She was gone. He waited for a moment for everything to return to normal before he turned and walked back to the throne room, plopping happily back into Yami’s lap and snuggling into his chest. “I’m back!”

He could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's the end of it.  
> Thanks again to everyone who read, left kudos, or commented. It did more than you think it did.  
> Be sure to let me know what you thought and ask any questions you might have.  
> Also be sure to let me know how you feel about the prospect of a sequel.


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